


A Marriage Of Inconvenience

by PizzaPolitical (orphan_account)



Series: British Political Dribble [1]
Category: Political RPF - UK 20th-21st c.
Genre: Cameron/Clegg, Clameron - Freeform, Downing Street, Fluff, Lolitics - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-03-30 09:32:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 26,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3931831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/PizzaPolitical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>6 months after the formation of the coalition, David Cameron and Nick Clegg are still coming to grips with how close they have become.<br/>Just some more Clameron fluff while we're recovering from the 2015 GE results. I'm bored, okay?<br/>The PizzaPolitcal tumblr- http://pizzapolitical.tumblr.com/</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Marriage Of Inconvenience.

**Author's Note:**

> Even though you know it already, this is entirely fictional (unfortunately).  
> Once you start shipping Clameron, you never stop.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sun have been printing bollocks again, and Nick isn't happy.

"This is ridiculous!". The voice of the Deputy Prime Minister carried up the old stairs of 10 Downing Street like a thunderclap in the night sky. In one hand he held a fresh copy of The Sun, whilst in the other he was attempting to hold the two steaming hot coffees he had purchased from Starbucks only minutes ago. Nick rarely got angry, but this was one of those rare occasions in which he did. The Sun, well known for publishing outrageous and farfetched nonsense, had stepped too far this time. It had been six months since the coalition's forming and constant jokes were still being made. Worse still, the people of Britain, even some members of his own party, were saying that he was a traitor. "The Lib Dems and the Conservatives?!". Danny Alexander's voice echoed in Nick's head as he began to slowly climb the stairs to the Prime Minister's private quarters. 

David's wife and children were away in Oxford, and there was ridiculous amounts of paperwork and folders to file through before the members of the Commons met again in the morning. The shouts, cheers and jokes of the Opposition still thundered about the caverns of Nick's skull, as well as the very Wallace-like face of new Labour leader Ed Miliband floating amongst his thoughts. Nick wondered whether he had any paracetamol stuffed into his pocket, before realising he had reached the main door of the Prime Minister's quarters. He tucked his copy of The Sun under his arm and knocked three times. On the other side he heard faint sighing, followed by footsteps and the sound of bolts being slid open. "Nick!" David said, as if surprised to see his Deputy despite having arranged the meeting, "Come in". Nick smiled at him and stepped in. The kitchen and dining room were open, and to opposite them was a spacious living room. Samantha usually kept the place immaculately clean, but in her absence the place had gone to rack and ruin. Numerous coloured papers were strewn across the floor, spaced oddly between a variety of tabloids and leaflets. Nick even spotted the odd discarded milk carton to two.

"Sorry about the mess" David apologised, scratching the back of his head as his blue eyes scanned the apartment, "I was so caught up in my work I forgot you were coming". Nick looked to him sympathetically before setting the two hot drinks down on the coffee table. David shut the door and walked over to the living room, sinking into an armchair with a heavy sigh. Nick sat down on the one area of the couch that wasn't covered with paper, and settled into a comfortable position. He spread the newspaper he had been carrying out across his lap and shook his head with a tut. It still frustrated him. The sheer cheek of Britain's tabloids was absurd on occasions. The press loved to make jokes about David and himself, often talking as though the two of them were a married couple. Married couple. Nick thought on that for a second, before turning to David with a small smile. 

"Are you alright, Prime Minister?" he asked. David lifted his head and returned his smile slightly.

"I've told you before, Nick" he corrected, "Call me David. It is my name, after all. What's that you've got there?". He nodded to newspaper and straightened himself up in his chair. Nick smoothed the pages out and held them up for David to read. There was a brief pause as David looked over the latest cover of The Sun. Nick was surprised when he began to laugh. It wasn't genuine laughter, more like a bitter chuckle. "I wouldn't let it get to you" the Prime Minister said, his head falling into his palms once again, "They've been printing things like since the election". Nick looked to the cover with a scowl.

"'A Marriage Of Inconvenience?'. 'Latest Commons Debate Fuels Rumours That Cameron And His Recent Bride May Be On The Verge Of Separation'!" he read out, his eyes moving up and down the disturbing image The Sun had printed with the headline, "I mean really!". The pathetic geniuses who had formulated the idea had photo shopped the faces of David and Nick and placed them on the bodies of a bride and groom. Behind David's character was a sour looking George Osborne, whilst on Nick's side, Paddy Ashdown could be seen sticking a middle finger up to the Chancellor. "Have they not got anything else to write about? What the debates themselves? Have they not been focusing on the issues themselves?" Nick went on, smacking his forehead in sheer disbelief, "I simply don't understand these people". David sighed from his armchair, smiling despite himself. "Ignore them" he instructed, "They aren't worth the thought, Nick. Now, I think it's time we got on with some work. Thank you for the coffee, by the way". Nick set the paper aside and smiled to the Prime Minister kindly. The two took up their cups and took quick sips, before getting down to business. (A/N-get your mind out of the gutter)

**********************

"For goodness sake!" Nick cried out, for the second time that day. He reached over the coffee table and seized the television control from under a pile of George's files. He furious typed in the number of the BBC Parliament channel and watched as the rolling credits of Have I Got News For You changed to David Dimbleby and Nick Robinson discussing the latest polls and newest legislations. He and David had been taking a break from their paperwork to tune into the latest episode of HIGNFY, a show which up until quite recently Nick had rather enjoyed. Once again, there had been near constant comments about the government, particularly the 'blossoming relationship' between the two leaders. Ian Hislop's witty stabs at David had made Nick wince. David himself, however, had been rather annoyed.

"Do calm down, Nick" David said, looking over to his partner with tired eyes, "It's not worth it". Nick sighed heartily and sat back on the couch. The first question on the show had been 'What drama has been washing over Westminster this week?'. Hislop's response? 'Cameron and Cleggy are getting a divorce'. That answer had been met with thunderous laughing and applause. Nick wasn't sure what frustrated him more. The jokes, or the fact he had been called 'Cleggy' on national television. "I've a good mind to march down to Soho and give that Hislop a piece of my mind" Nick muttered under his breath. David raised an eyebrow, a slight smile creeping onto his face. He looked over his papers and pushed his reading glasses further down the bridge of his nose. 

"You against Hislop? You're a good man, Nick, but no one can win against Hislop" David reasoned, "He became editor of Private Eye for a reason. I've said if before and it looks as though I'll have to say it again- don't pay attention to them!". Nick sighed and nodded slowly. He knew he was letting everything get to him. All politicians, leaders especially, got abuse from all corners. They were supposed to ignore it and carry on. A good MP accepted insults and criticism, and never faltered. The Liberal Democrats had never really had much attention before. The coalition had increased their publicity and power tenfold over the past six months, and while Nick was grateful to finally have the chance to make serious changes, he didn't at all like being hated on wherever he went.

"Good Lord, look at the time!" David cried, pushing the sleeve of his pale shirt up to reveal his watch, "It's ten already! We'd better tune into the news before we miss it". Both he and Nick reached over to the coffee table to take up the remote, but their hands collided with one another. Nick instantly drew his back and apologised. "Sorry, go on" he said quickly, chuckling under his breath. David smiled slightly and shrugged, holding the television remote loosely in his palm.

"It's quite alright" he replied, "It's so dark in here it's difficult to see". Nick looked around, as though suddenly realising just how black the apartment had become. It was a late November night, and with the curtains drawn and a single lamp turned on over David's shoulder, the room was more or less stuck complete darkness. Nick reached across the couch and fumbled around to find the switch on the nearby lamp, before his colleague's voice called out to him. 

"Leave the light, Nick" David said, his tone remaining one of kindness, "I prefer the dark in the evening. It's cosier, don't you think?". Nick nodded and resumed his previous position. He turned his gaze towards the television screen, watching as two BBC presenters reported and discussed the latest headlines. Every now and then, a red bar would stretch out across the bottom of the screen with the words 'BREAKING NEWS' emblazoned across it. There were quick snippets from that days Commons debates, followed by an in depth analysis of what it meant for Conservative, Liberal Democrat, and Labour supporters. The two men fought back chuckles as the increasingly goofy face of Ed Miliband cropped up again. The Labour MP was new to leadership, though Nick felt as though he had to admire his spirit.

Just then, Nick felt a pair of eyes on him. He turned his head to see David looking straight at him. The Prime Minister chewed on the end of a pen, papers held loosely in his hands, reflections from the television flickering in the lenses of his glasses, which were still pushed halfway down his nose. "David?" Nick asked, looking from left to right, cheeks growing slightly warmer, "David?".

"Hmm?" David said suddenly, shaking his head and returning to real world, so to speak, "Sorry, I must've spaced out for a moment there. I do apologise". Nick nodded and gave him a small smile. 

"It's quite alright" he replied, "I'd imagine you're quite tired". David nodded and straightened himself once again in his armchair. The voices of the two BBC reporters continued in the background. Nick stretched and put a hand to his mouth as he yawned. 

"It sounds as though you're tired too" David said with a slight chuckle. He checked his watch once again and set the papers he had been holding down on the coffee table. Nick got to his feet and took a few steps forward to stretch his legs. He glanced around the darkened room, just about making out the shape of his jacket spread across the back of the couch. He picked it up and slid his arms through the holes. David got to his feet, and began to stretch with slight groans. 

"Are you going?" he asked, fatigue seeping into his voice. Nick nodded and yawned behind his hand once again. 

"I'd better go, yes" he answered, "We got some work done, at least". David nodded to that and walked around to stand before the younger Deputy Prime Minister. He ran a hand through his thin brown hair and smiled slightly. 

"Would you like me to call you a cab?" the PM suggested. Nick smiled at him appreciatively before shaking his head. He made his way towards the door with David on his tail. 

"Thank you for the offer, David, but my wife said she'd be happy to pick me up at the end of Downing Street" Nick replied, feeling slightly lightheaded as he went. He narrowed his eyes to try and see through the sheer darkness of the room. He slowly put one foot out after the other. Suddenly, he felt something hit his shoe, and he felt himself beginning to stumble. He leant backwards in an attempt to prevent himself from face planting the floor, but instead fell into David. He felt his hand hit the Prime Minister's face. 

"Ouch!" David grunted, before reaching out to catch his Deputy as he fell. Nick felt two strong hands grip his arms, and soon he was back securely on two feet once again. He turned to his colleague and smiled, hoping he would be seen through the darkness. Sure enough, he saw David smiling back. In the light of the television he saw that David's right eye was watering slightly. Nick frowned and tried to get a closer look.

"I'm very sorry!" he cried, realising just how hard his hand had hit the Prime Minister, "I lost my balance. Are you alright?". He heard David laugh slightly. The PM walked around him and found the door handle. There was a faint click as the door knob was twisted, and the dull light of the stairway seeped into the room. Nick stepped up alongside him and gave his partner a shy smile.

"I really am sorry" he said, "I feel rather awful". David laughed, louder this time.

"Don't worry about it" he said, "It's quite alright. Now you get on home before Miriam starts wondering where you are". Nick smiled as he imagined his wife and children waiting for him at home. Even despite that, he felt slightly sad to be leaving the Prime Minister's apartment. As stressful and long as their work had been, they did tend to enjoy themselves. Just being in each others company seemed like a plus. Even if they didn't say anything, they were getting along. The coalition had worked rather well so far. David and Nick had found it impossible to hate each other, no matter what their respective parties said. 

"She might start believing the dribble The Sun are publishing" Nick joked, thinking back to the photo shopped image of he and David as newlyweds. David laughed and quickly scratched behind his ear. 

"If it was true, she wouldn't have anything to worry about" he said, going along with the gag, "Our marriage is supposedly on the rocks, remember?". Nick chuckled and turned to look down the many steps that lay on the other side of the apartment door. He turned to David once again and reached out a hand. The PM shook it and smiled kindly.

"I shall see you in the morning" Nick said, "Good night, David".

"Yes, sleep well" David replied, "Good night, Nick". He watched as the Deputy Prime Minister made his way down the staircase, his light yellow tie bouncing against his white shirt as he merrily hopped across each step. There was always an air of optimism about Nick, one that cheered David up no end. He hadn't realised just how much he enjoyed Nick's company until now, and with Samantha and the kids gone for at least another week, he was sad to see him go. He and Nick had been working so closely it was almost as though they WERE married. David chuckled at that and made his way back to the living room.

He sank down in his armchair again and stared blankly at the television screen. Economy, deficit, income, legislation. The words of the two reporters drifted straight over his head. He felt far too tired to get anything useful or progressive done. He could finish the last few pieces of paperwork in the car on the way to the Commons in the morning, as he had done before. Nick's copy of The Sun still lay on the coffee table. Quite spontaneously, David gave it a quick glance. 'A Marriage Of Inconvenience'. 

For some strange, ridiculous, bizarre reason, the more he read those words, the more appealing they became.


	2. To Parliament, Good Sir.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A much shorter chapter in which David and Nick hitch a lift to Parliament together :3

_I'm going to be late, I'm going to be late_. Nick seized his briefcase from the top of the kitchen table, and made a B-line for the front door. He stumbled out onto the porch and furiously began to fumble around in his pocket for the keys. He locked the door and set his briefcase down for a moment. His shirt was un-tucked and his tie was still hanging loosely around his neck. Nick was grateful that there were no journalists in the vicinity; the tabloids would have a field day were they to see him in his current state. He began to quickly fasten his bright orange tie and slipped his phone from his jacket pocket. It was a twenty minute drive from his London townhouse to the Houses of Parliament, and Miriam had come down with a bad case of flu over night. He had made her a hot drink and left a large box of Kleenex tissues by her bedside. There was little he could do considering he, the Deputy Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, was already running late.

He flicked through his contacts and found David's number. He hesitated for a moment before pressing the call button. He lifted his phone to his eye and listened as the line connected. Nick sat down on the high step of the porch and rubbed his temple with a thin finger. He was hoping to ring his partner to explain that he would late. Once the explanation was given and the call had ended, he would call a taxi and try to get to the Commons before any embarrassment. He didn't want to give the press any more excuses for abuse, did he now?

 

"Hello?" David's voice answered on the other end. Nick sighed in relief and checked his watch quickly.

 

"Hello, David, it's Nick" the Deputy said, "I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid I'm going to be rather late today". There was a second of silence, and from the other end of the line Nick could hear the soft running of tyres over pavement, as well as the occasional blast of a horn. _David was already on his way_. Would he think the Lib Dem supporter to be _unprofessional_? , _undedicated_? , _uncaring_?. They had just been getting along brilliantly, as well. Nick hated to think that their friendship would be in anyway damaged by his tardiness.

 

"What's going on?" David asked curiously, "Are you alright?". Nick nodded, before realising the PM couldn't see him.

 

"Yes, I'm fine" he answered, "It's my wife. She's been taken ill and I can't find her car keys. I'll arrive at the Commons as soon as I can".

 

"My car is near the area. I could always ask my driver to pick you up on the way" David suggested. Nick blushed and stuttered for a moment.

 

"You're very kind, but I shouldn't" the Lib Dem leader answered, "I'd hate to be a nuisance".

 

"Don't be silly" was David's response, "We'll be outside your house in the next few minutes". Before Nick could argue, the PM ended the call. Nick stared down at the garden path before him for a second, before looking to the screen on his phone. He clicked the lock button and slipped it back into his pocket. He stood up from the front step and took up his briefcase. It was incredibly kind of David to even offer a lift. Nick would be a liar if he said he was unsurprised. He didn't think that the Prime Minister would want to make a detour for anyone. Then again, David wasn't at all how the press chose to portray him. He didn't seem at all like the posh, stuck-up Etonian people said he was.

 

A few minutes later, Nick heard the sound of tyres rolling across the road. A smart black estate car stopped outside the front gate. The windows were tinted, and even as he walked down the path towards it he couldn't help but feel he was about to meet the leader of MI6, or something of that ilk. He looked about, as though checking for cameras or prying eyes, before opening a door and stepping in. He was confronted by a bright smile from the Prime Minister.

 

"Good morning, Nick" David chimed, clearly in a good mood. He was dressed in his usual black suit and blue tie, except today he had chosen to put on an expensive-looking black coat and deep blue scarf over the top. He ran a leather-gloved hand through his thin brown hair and tapped the back of the driver's seat.

 

"Good morning, David" Nick said, returning the PM's smile with enthusiasm, "I'm sorry about this, by the way. It's awfully kind of you. I'm very grateful". David smiled and nodded to him respectfully. He turned his cool blue gaze to the passing streets and buildings out of the car window, before looking back to the Deputy happily. He nodded to the chunky black briefcase laid out across Nick's lap and chuckled slightly.

 

"That'll be twice as full by this evening" he commented. Nick smiled and chuckled under his breath. He ran a hand over the smooth surface of the case and began to pick at a few flaking areas of leather.

 

"It's weighing me down as it is" he replied jokingly. David laughed, throwing his head back so that it rested against the back of the seat. The interior of the car was incredibly near and posh, with sleek black leather in all corners and barely any sound coming from the engine or the tyres. Nick felt slightly out of place inside it. He was used to Miriam's normal family car, with it's faint coffee stains on the seats and the children's toys stuffed into every nook and cranny.

 

"Relax" David said, a slightly amused look on his face. He had clearly noticed just how on edge his Deputy was. He nestled down further into his seat, even inching across slightly in Nick's direction. Nick looked to David, suddenly catching sight of a faint purple mark over his right eye. He felt his chest tighten, and for a second he almost reached out and touched it.

 

"Oh my God" he said quietly, pointing to the growing bruise, "Was that where I-". David chuckled and held up a gloved hand in defence.

 

"Yes, but before you start showering me in apologies, it's fine" he said, rubbing the bruise with a slight wince, "You hit hard, Clegg". Nick smiled weakly. You've hurt him, his mind screamed, you've hurt the Prime Minister. If the press were to pick up on the bruise, would they make up even more marriage jokes? Would the whole 'marriage of inconvenience' nonsense continue with a vengeance?

 

"Let's hope my voice in Parliament hits just as hard" Nick said suddenly, staring off into space. It was a random comment, but a deep one. He had been confident in the deal he had made with the Conservatives, but there was still the fear that the Liberal Democrats would become just another tool for David and his colleagues. There were some in the Commons who still didn't take him seriously, after all.

 

"What are you talking about?" David asked, furrowing his eyebrows, "You're a marvellous politician. And I'm not just saying that because I like you". Nick looked to him and raised an eyebrow. It felt good to hear someone say that. It also felt good to hear that the PM truly liked him. Perhaps there was definite hope for the coalition yet. Nick had always wondered whether David only pretended to get along with him to make the job easier.

 

"You do like me then?" Nick asked, feeling like a child even as the words escaped his lips. David took a long look at him before smiling softly.

 

"Why, of course I do" he said, as though stating it to be an indisputable fact, "Why wouldn't I?".


	3. Miriam.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick gets quite a shock...

Nick arrived back home in the early afternoon. David had offered him a lift again, and by three 'o clock, he was walking back up the garden path again. He opened the front door and set his briefcase down at the side of the hall. After shutting the door behind him and placing his keys on the side, he began to slowly make his way upstairs. The house was eerily quiet that day, what with the children at school and Miriam ill in bed. Nick padded across the landing, stopping just as he reached his bedroom to put on a bright smile. It had been an arduous day, no matter how short. When he did open the door, he expected to see Miriam lying in bed soundly asleep. What he was confronted by was much worse.

Miriam was attempting to smuggle a much younger man out of the window dressed only in her underwear. The man trying to escape was just as half-naked. Nick looked between the two with utter confusion, before growing very angry indeed. The man stopped and looked around to the Deputy with wide eyes, before slowly slipping out of Miriam's grasp with a guilty expression. There was a moment of agitated silence, broken only by Nick's heavy breathing as he fought to keep calm.

"Out" he said quietly, his eyes moving to the floor. Miriam took a step forward, but quickly stopped when Nick pointed an accusing finger at her. He moved it in the direction of the young man and took a few slow steps forward. The man relaxed slightly and stuck out his chest, as though trying to intimidate. However, Nick was having none of it.

"Out" he said again, louder this time. He lunged forward and seized the young man from where he stood. Ignoring the screams of his cheating wife, Nick dragged the man down the staircase and threw him out onto the doorstep. He vented some of his frustration by aiming a kick at the man's stomach, before slamming the door furiously. He sighed heavily and sank down against the door. And then, all of a sudden, he burst into tears. Nick hid his face in his hands, just as Miriam, covering herself with a fluffy dressing gown her husband had given her one Christmas, shamefully padded down the stairs.

"Nick?" she asked gently, guilt evident on her face, "Nick, please". Nick looked up to her sharply and brushed the tears from his eyes. He could no longer see Miriam in the same light. It was as though in a single moment all the love he had ever had for her vanished. It had ruined a reasonably pleasant day, and now Nick was already considering divorce.

"How long?" he asked hoarsely. Miriam perched down on the bottom step and flicked a piece of dark hair from her eyes. Her eyes shifted about the hall, and with sheer discomfort she met her husband's gaze. With a deep sigh, she admitted the truth of her affair.

"Two months" she said, voice close to a whisper. Nick groaned and rested his head in his hands once more.

"I'm going" the MP announced, jumping to his feet suddenly. Miriam did the same and looked to him with wide eyes. She pursued him as he marched up the stairs again. Nick's vision was blurred by tears, but somehow he could still make out the shape of his suitcase under the bed.

"Nick!" Miriam pleaded, stopping just before the doorway of their bedroom, "Nick, please. At least hear me out!". Nick turned on his heel angrily and shook his head at her.

"I haven't anything to say to you" he stated, slamming the bedroom door on her. He sank down onto the edge of the bed and listened as his wife groaned and thundered back down the stairs again. Why was _she_ angry? What had she been expecting? Did she think Nick would just allow her to continue her little liaisons where he couldn't see her? Nick had never felt so betrayed. He failed to see why Miriam would break him so harshly. The least she could have done is be honest about it, rather than trying to hide it all.

With a heavy heart, Nick pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and typed in his password, tears brimming in his eyes as he saw the cute family photograph presented on his lock screen. He went to his contacts and began to file through to find Danny Alexander's number. Danny was still in London at the moment, and had been Nick's friend for many years. It was a lot to ask, but he was hoping that Danny might be able to put him up for a few nights, at least until he got everything sorted. He couldn't stay in the house knowing Miriam had been sleeping with other men under its roof. He'd sleep in the shed at the end of the garden if he had to.

With a loud sniff, Nick dialled the number and brought the phone to his ear. "Hello?" a voice called moments later, only it wasn't Danny's voice. Nick frowned and looked to the screen of his phone for a moment. _David_. He had managed to call _David_ , not _Danny_.

"Hello? Nick?" David's voice drifted from the speaker. Nick cleared his throat and brushed another tear from the corner of his eye.

"Sorry, David" he said quietly, "I called the wrong number. I'm very sorry to disturb you". Nick was about to end the call, when David spoke out once more.

"Are you alright, Nick? You sound upset" the Prime Minister said, "What's going on?". Nick opened his mouth to speak, only to break down for the second time. His body shook, eyes wide with a mix of betrayal and anger. _My marriage is over_ , his mind screamed, _there's no chance of me trusting Miriam after this_.

"It's my wife, David" Nick gulped, "She's...she's been-".

"Be waiting outside the house in fifteen minutes" David instructed, "I'm coming to collect you". The line went dead. Nick stared at his phone for a second, before looking about the room in wonder. David sounded as though he knew exactly what was going on. But how? Was he psychic? Or did he simply understand? Nick failed to see how, considering Samantha was as faithful a wife as ever. Despite this, of course, Nick did as he was told. He reached under the bed and drew out his suitcase. Once it was filled with fresh sets of clothes and toiletries, he clasped it shut and made his way down the stairs for the final time. And then, after giving a sobbing Miriam a slight nod, he slipped through the door and made his way down the garden path. Nick was grateful to see that there were no journalists hanging around outside, and before the gate he stood, waiting patiently with a heavy heart for his partner to come and save him. And, true to his word, fifteen minutes after their conversation, David Cameron's car pulled up a the curb.

"Nick!" the PM's voice called out as the door was opened. Nick climbed inside and shut the door behind him. The car pulled away slowly and began its steady descent down the hill and towards the edge of the Thames. Nick turned to David and dropped his suitcase to the floor of the car. He opened his mouth to explain, but again broke down. Instead of comprehensible speech, confused wails escaped his mouth. Was he overreacting? Was he wrong to have completely walked out on Miriam? Should he have given her a chance to explain? All these questions flashed through Nick's mind as his wails turned into nothing but silent sobs.

Suddenly, he felt himself being pulled into a hug of sorts. David pulled his Deputy in close and patted his back gently as Nick shook. Nick instantly felt himself calm down somewhat, and made no attempt to move away. The car rolled on through the busy streets of London, past countless tourists and students and business men, all of which had no idea that right now, David Cameron was comforting Nick Clegg. 


	4. Tea And Pizza.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some quality time for David and Nick.

"My God, Nick" David said sadly, a hot mug of tea in each hand. The Prime Minister made his way out of the kitchen and towards the living room. Nick sat with his head in his hands on the couch. The Lib Dem leader was no longer crying now, though he remained angry. David suspected he was shocked more than anything. He had always thought Miriam to be a very loyal, loving wife. He found himself getting rather angry at Miriam as well. Not because she was in fact a lying adulterer, but because she had hurt Nick so cruelly. If there was anything David could not stand, it was hurting Nick Clegg.

"Thank you" Nick said quietly, taking the mug of tea David offered him. The Prime Minister sat down on the edge of his armchair and took a long sip from his own mug. He winced slightly as the hot liquid trickled down his throat. He then set the mug down and looked to his Deputy with a sympathetic smile.

"You are very welcome to stay here until everything is sorted" he said. Nick looked to David over the brim of his mug, the faintest hints of a smile growing on his tired, tear-stained face. He took a quick sip and rested the bottom of the mug in his palms.

"You're very kind, David" Nick said gratefully, "But I've been too much of a burden already. There are countless hotels in London". David raised an eyebrow.

"But none of them have Downing Street level security" he replied, "The point is, the press will get to you. If they see that you've moved out to stay in a random hotel, they'll work out what's going on. It'll only take a quick conversation with Miriam, and it'll be all over the papers". Nick studied the PM for a moment, the happiness and optimism that usually possessed him slowly returning.

"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought" Nick said, already agreeing with David's logic. David shrugged his shoulders, fighting back the urge to wink at his Deputy. He sat back in his armchair and seized his mug from the coffee table.

"I am the Prime Minister" he said, "It's my job to give everything a great deal of thought". Can't argue with that, Nick thought as he brought the rim of the mug to his lips once more. It had been a long and confusing day. He had spent more time with David over the past twenty four hours than he had in the past six months. They had hitched a lift to Parliament together in the morning, sat side by side in the Commons, discussed business in the car home, and now they were having tea together. Since the coalition, Nick hadn't had time for friendly social calls such as this. It was nice to just be sitting back, rather than going through important parliamentary business or new legislation.

Suddenly, a small chuckle escaped Nick's lips. David turned his blue gaze towards him and raised an eyebrow. "What's so funny?" he asked. Nick shook his head and scratched his forehead.

"We were supposed to be having pizza for dinner tonight. Margarita for the kids, and ham and pineapple for Miriam and I" he said, staring down at the bottom of his mug almost reminiscently. Already he was missing the small, simple aspects of his life with Miriam. He didn't at all want to see her after what happened, though he was still fighting the feeling that he should have at least stayed for the children. David scratched his chin for a moment, before springing up to his feet with a strangely bright grin.

"Not to worry" he said, "We can have pizza here". Nick fought back a laugh and nodded in agreement.

"That sounds like a good idea" he added, "Let's do it". David nodded and slipped his phone from his pocket. Nick watched as he brought out his glasses and pushed them up the bridge of his nose. It was always funny to see David type. He typed like old age pensioners often did, hesitantly, with a single finger. David would very often stick his tongue out slightly when typing or reading, as though trying desperately to concentrate. It would never fail to make Nick laugh, and right now he needed a laugh more than ever.

"I've found the number of a company named Domino's" David said, pronouncing the name of the company as though it were a foreign restaurant, "Is this how you order pizza? You ring the number and tell them what it is you want?". Nick threw his head back with laughter and brushed a happy tear from the corner of his eye. David simply stood still, eyes darting from left to right as he searched for the source of humour. Another thing which Nick loved about David was his 'poshness', and how adorable and innocent he looked when trying to do something most British people were accustomed to doing. Clearly, ordering pizza from Domino's was a rare occurrence for the Prime Minister, and so Nick stepped in to help.

"Here" the Deputy said, gently taking the phone from David, biting back further laughter as the PM looked on blankly, "Allow me".


	5. Sleepwalking At 10 Downing Street.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick discovers something rather odd about his partner.

Nick fell asleep that night in a cosy bed with a belly full of pizza. David had allowed him to sleep in one of the children's bedrooms, which had curiously been redecorated. When Florence occupied it, its walls had been covered with pink, flowery wallpaper. Now the room was a simple beige. David had been somewhat secretive about the whole thing, changing the subject from the moment Nick mentioned the redecorating. Nick had simply shrugged and put it from his mind. And now he was fast asleep, his head at peace for the first time all day. It was oddly comforting to know that David was only a few metres down the hall.

The two had a lovely evening, laughing and talking over large boxes of pizza. Nick came to love just how middle class David was about it. He'd pick up his pizza slices with a napkin, and that was only after convincing him that not many people ate pizza with a knife and fork. David was adorable when trying to do ordinary things, a thought which Nick was determined to keep to himself.

Light from the street lamps outside shone through the curtains, hitting Nick's eyelids directly. He stirred and shifted in bed. Soon, he opened his eyes and let out a long, hearty yawn. _Throat's dry_. He cleared his throat as quietly as possible, worrying that he might wake David. He coughed again, making sure it was almost silent. _Still dry_. Nick sighed to himself and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Straightening his paisley pyjamas, he padded across the carpet towards the bedroom door. He turned the knob and opened it slowly. There was a slight creak, and Nick suddenly stopped, still frightened he would wake the Prime Minister. It was still strange to think that he was currently sleeping in Downing Street.

Nick walked down across the hall and quietly made his way to the kitchen. He slipped a glass from a nearby cabinet and moved over to the sink. He turned the cold tap and watched as the glass filled with icy, clear water. Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him. Nick froze slightly and turned his head around sharply.

"Shit!" he cried, stumbling backwards slightly, "Goodness me, David, you caught me by surprise!". David Cameron stood in the doorway of the kitchen, dressed in a blue silk dressing gown. His thin hair was ruffled slightly, and on his feet he wore a pair of black, thick slippers. Nick frowned at him. There was an oddly blank expression of the PM's face, as though he was still asleep.

"Did I wake you, David?" Nick asked quietly, retrieving the glass from the bottom of the empty sink. David stared back at him for a moment, before wobbling towards the fridge. He walked like a zombie, arms dropped lazily by his sides, eyes half closed. Nick's eyes followed him with wonder. Could it be that the Prime Minister _sleepwalked_? A small smile formed on Nick's lips, and with increased fascination he leant against the worktop and watched as David sleepily rummaged through the fridge. The PM pulled out a bottle of milk and took a long swig. He then put the lid back on, slid the bottle back into the fridge and shut the door.

David turned to Nick slowly, his eyelids drooping, traces of milk evident around his mouth. He slipped his hands into the pocket of his dressing gown and began to make his way out of the kitchen.

"Goodnight, darling" he said airily, before disappearing down the hall. Nick furrowed his eyebrows and looked around the kitchen with a confused expression. He would have laughed, had he not been so surprised. If only he had his phone on him. He was sure David would have laughed had Nick shown him a video of his sleepwalking. _The Prime Minister of the United Kingdom sleepwalked_. Nick fought back a grin and gulped the water down in one. Then, leaving the empty glass on the draining board, he made his way back to his room.


	6. Bloody Hell.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has an accident.  
> Might be some strong language btw.

" _Bloody hell_ ". Those were the first two words Nick Clegg heard as he awoke. He had drifted off again relatively quickly after the incident in the kitchen, and felt surprising refreshed that morning. It was a Saturday, and while there would be no Commons debates today, there was still mountains of paperwork to file through. On Monday, Parliament was due to begin discussing press regulations. It was, of course, a topic which Nick felt rather passionate about, considering he almost constantly had a string of journalists sniffing his tail.

"Bloody hell! Bloody, _bloody_ hell!" he heard David's voice cry. Nick furrowed his eyebrows and moved over to the bedroom door. He flexed his shoulders and slipped a hand into the pocket of his pyjamas. He opened the door and walked down the hall with a yawn. David was walking around the dining table clutching his right hand. His face was flushed red, and there was evident pain on his face. Nick lifted his eyebrows and rushed forward.

"David? What have you done?" he asked, worried. David looked up suddenly, and tried to relax. His right hand remained covered, but Nick could clearly see blood dripping through David's fingers. What had the clumsy fool done now? It looked painful, what ever it was.

"It's nothing, it's nothing" David said, giving the Deputy a small smile, "Sleep well?". Nick nodded and narrowed his eyes.

"Yes, I did, thank you" he replied, memories of the sleepwalking flashing through his mind, "Seriously though, David, what have you done to yourself?". David grumbled slightly under his breath and lifted his cut hand.

"I was cutting some bread and the bloody knife slipped" David explained, hopping around as though it was his foot that had been injured, "It really...really...really". Nick smiled slightly and narrowed his eyes even further. If Nick didn't know any better, it sounded as though the Prime Minister was on the verge of saying a rather naughty word. Before hand, 'bloody hell' was about as strong as David could manage. This was just another demonstration of how funny and adorable the PM looked when doing things normally. David wasn't at all as middle-class as the press claimed, but he wasn't exactly your average guy either.

"It really _what_ , David?" Nick asked, eyes moving to the blood dripping between David's clenched fingers. David hesistated for a moment, teeth clenched with pain.

"It really _fucking_ hurts" David uttered, as though angry that the knife had cut him. Nick stared at him silently for a moment, before chuckling loudly. David frowned and turned to the Deputy with a baffled expression.

"What?" he said, "What's so funny?". Nick shook his head with a grin and stepped forward to inspect the PM's wound. He prised David's left hand away from the cut and wiped away traces of bloody with his sleeve. It was a deep cut, and fairly long, stretching across the base of his index finger and the middle of his palm. David stopped dancing about and watched as Nick inspected the wound. He winced slightly as the two edges of the cut opened slightly.

"This needs washing" Nick said, releasing the PM's hand, "I'm sure you'll survive". David laughed slightly and nodded to the Deputy appreciatively.

"Thank you, Nick" he said, walking into the kitchen and running the cut under the cold tap, "I apologise, by the way". Nick frowned and leant against the door frame.

"Apologise for what?" he responded. David craned his neck round and looked at Nick from the kitchen sink.

"For my language earlier" David said, apologetically, "It was somewhat uncivilised". Nick laughed and shook his head.

"Relax, David" he said, "Everybody swears". David lifted an eyebrow.

"They do?" he said, "Well, fuck it then". Nick laughed again, louder this time.

"That doesn't mean you have to swear all the time though, David" he corrected, images of the PM effing and blaring in the Commons appearing in his mind. It was a funny thought, but he doubted it would go down well will the Opposition.

"Of course, of course" David said, nodding quickly, the water washing away all traces of blood, "I understand".


	7. The Moral High Ground.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick has a few things to sort out. Luckily, David's on hand for moral support ;)  
> I'd like to add that I KNOW Nick doesn't have a daughter, but for the sake of this story, he does. Deal with it.

_Thank God for that_. The Commons were done debating for the week, leaving its many members to go home and relax. Well, relax wasn't exactly the most accurate of words. Very few PMs got a chance for relaxation. There was always some form of paperwork or new legislation or expenses to go over. Unfortunately for David and Nick, they seemed to have more to do than the entire Cabinet combined.

"My God" Nick sighed, dumping the large pile of files down on the dining table, wiping his brow with the back of his hand, "It'll take us all weekend to sort this lot". David walked out from behind him and nodded glumly. He added to Nick's pile with his own paperwork. The two were sure that it would be reaching the ceiling soon. Nick could have sworn he saw the overhead slight wobble slightly. David loosened his tie and sunk down into his armchair. Nick chuckled slightly as the Prime Minister closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He reached into his trouser pocket and ran a thumb over the screen of his phone. David lifted an eyelid and peered at him.

"Are you going to call her?" he asked. Nick unlocked the phone and hesitated as he reached Miriam's number.

"I don't know" he replied. David sighed and leant his head against the back of the armchair. Nick lifted his thumb, as though about to press that all important call button, but hesitated. What would he say? He had been in Downing Street for a number of days now, and the clothes and toiletries he had brought with him were in need of replenishing. He would need to return home to fetch his things, and to see his children. Whilst his time with David had been rather cheerful, he had truly missed the kids. There would have to be a lot of explaining when he did visit them.

"Do it" David instructed, a reassuring expression on his face, "You need to talk". Nick looked to him for a moment, before looking down at his phone and dialling his wife. He brought the phone to his ear and listened as the line connected.

"Nick?" Miriam's voice called out, "Is that you?". Nick sighed and perched down on the side of the dining table.

"Yes, Miriam, hello" he said, memories of how he had caught his wife cheating with a younger man flashing through his mind, "How...how are you?". There was a pause.

"Alright, _considering_ " she said, a slight hint of frustration seeping into her voice. Nick narrowed his eyes and set his free hand down on the table.

"Yes, well, I suppose you should have considered the consequences when you started bringing young men into our home while I was away" he snapped, quite surprised by quite how angry he had suddenly become. They had been having such a strong and supportive marriage, and now Miriam had gone and wrecked it, hadn't she?

"Nick, I'm sorry, okay? I am really, really sorry" Miriam cried down the other end of the phone, "Can we please just talk about it?". Nick scoffed.

"We're talking now" he retorted, "Look, I haven't called to hear your excuses. I'll be coming around sometime during the weekend to pick up a few things, and to see the kids. That is okay, isn't it? I won't interrupt you and one of your little lover boys again, will I?". Miriam gasped, offended. Nick frowned to himself. It was unusual for him to be so spiteful, and he wasn't sure he liked it at all. Miriam was being civilised, and Nick was biting her head off at every angle.

"Yes, Nick. It's your house; come around whenever you want" Miriam said, "The children have missed you". A faint smile worked its way to Nick's lips.

"And I've missed them" he told her, "Do they know?". Miriam chuckled bitterly.

"Yes, but I don't think they quite understand" she said, "I'm sure you'll be able to explain it to them better than I can. Is it finished then, Nick? Are _we_ finished?". Nick sighed slightly and gently caressed his temple. He looked over to where David sat and instantly felt himself calm slightly. David was looking right back at him, head up propped up by his hand, his elbow leaning on the arm of the chair. He watched Nick was curiosity, and with pity.

"Miriam, I...." he began, suddenly tongue-tied.

"It's alright, Nick, I understand" his wife spoke, her frustration replaced with sadness, "It's my fault. You've got no reason to trust me now, but you have to know why I did it".

"I do?" Nick replied sharply.

"Yes" Miriam told him, "Ever since that bloody coalition, I've hardly seen you. Even when you're at home you're doing paperwork or writing speeches or working out your expenses. I had to be called into the children's school the other week because _your_ daughter was being bullied. When I asked her about it, she said that she'd tried to tell you about it, but you hadn't listened. It hurt her, Nick, but everyday I still her sitting by the window, waiting for you to come walking up the garden path. Do you ever think of them when you're sat around in that bloody palace, pretending you're making a difference?". A sudden wave of guilt hit Nick hard. He had been just as irresponsible as Miriam.

"I'm sorry, and I know that probably doesn't mean a lot now, but I am sorry" he told his wife, gulping slightly as the weight of his own ignorance pressed against his neck, "Look, I have to go. We'll speak properly tomorrow, okay? I'll come around ten". He heard Miriam scoff slightly from the other side. In the background he could hear the laughs and giggles of his children.

"Daddy?" Miguel's voice rang out, "Is that you?". Nick's eyes lit up and he smiled brightly, wishing suddenly that he could be talking to his son face to face rather than over the phone. From his armchair, David smiled with him.

"It's me" Nick replied, rubbing his bristly chin with his free hand.

"Are you coming home soon, Daddy?" Miguel asked, his little voice as chirpy as ever.

"I am, Miguel, I promise" Nick told him, "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? You be a good boy now. I love you".

"I love you too, Daddy" Miguel replied, bringing tears to Nick's eyes, "Bye bye". His son's voice faded, and was once again replaced by Miriam's.

"Well, I'll let you go" she said, ever so slightly bitterly, "I wouldn't want to interrupt you and your husband". Nick frowned and straightened himself up slightly.

"Wait, what?" he blurted, "Husband...wait, what? Oh yes, goodbye, Miriam". The line went dead, and Nick Clegg pulled his phone from his ear and slid it back into his pocket. He sighed and slowly walked over to the coffee table, before proceeding to sink down onto the couch. He buried his head in hands and fought back tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He had been a complete and utter idiot, hadn't he? He had more or less abandoned Miriam and the children over the past few months. Or was Miriam simply making things over dramatic? Was this what she wanted? Guilt?

"Nick?" David asked, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward in his armchair. Nick looked up, praying silently that there were no tears clinging to his cheeks.

"Yes, David?" the Deputy PM asked.

"Are you alright?" David asked, clearly concerned.

"Yes, yes" Nick said, rather too quickly, "I'm fine". David leant forward even more, and furrowed his eyebrows. His bright blue eyes bored into Nick as though reading his very soul.

"You're lying" David stated outright. Nick sighed and sat back on the couch.

"No" he admitted, wiping a hand on his forehead, mind blurring slightly, "No, I'm not fine at all".


	8. Dinner At The Savoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some basic Clameron fluff in which David takes Nick out for a meal to cheer him up :))  
> Wrote this listening to You're My Best Friend by Queen as well :3

FLASH. A dozen cameras went off at once. David Cameron and Nick Clegg slipped out from the back of their car, before being quickly ushered inside. Large men in thick black sunglasses guarded the doors of The Savoy Grill, as journalists and photographers fought to get a decent shot of the Prime Minister and his Deputy. Nick felt slightly awkward as he and David were shown to their table. Many stared, some glaring whilst others clapped. The Deputy kept his eyes on his feet until they reached their table. The waiter placed two menus into the hands of the two men and scuttled off with a bow. Nick looked around and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. David looked over to him from over his menu and smiled.

"Relax, Nick" he said calmly, "You're perfectly safe". Nick returned his smile and took another moment to glance around the restaurant. Even as Deputy Prime Minister, he had never been any where like it. One glance at the menu told Nick just how posh the place was. He couldn't pronounce half of the courses. David seemed to have no problem. He beckoned over a black-and-white clad waiter and together the two began to discuss different types of wine. Wine was something else Nick knew nothing of. A six pack of lager from ASDA usually served him sufficiently.

"Yes, Prime Minister" the waiter said, once David had decided on a wine, "I shall serve your drinks to you immediately". David nodded to him.

"Thank you" he replied, "And please, my name is David". The waiter smiled and scuttled away. Nick watched him for a moment, before turning to the PM. David looked back at him, his light eyes glinting slightly in the light of the restaurant. Nick set his hands down on the table and took another glance around.

"This is a nice place" he complimented, "It all seems a bit extravagant, though". David raised an eyebrow.

"Nonsense" he told the Deputy, "You were in need of cheering up". Nick laughed and scratched a spot just above his eyebrow.

"Are all your colleagues so spoilt?" Nick asked, catching sight of the waiter walking towards them from the corner of his eye. David chuckled and straightened himself up as a large bottle of unopened wine was set down in the middle of the table. The Prime Minister rubbed his hands happily as the waiter pulled out of the cork and filled two glasses. He took his eagerly and took a long sip. Nick did the same, albeit hesitantly. He shuddered slightly as the liquid trickled down his throat. It was bitter, but refreshing. Nick wasn't at all sure whether he liked it or not.

"Lovely" David said, smiling up at the waiter, who returned his smile enthusiastically. He reached out for his menu and flicked through it quickly. Nick watched him with fascination. The way his eyes slowly moved over each word, the way he would rub his chin whenever he thought deeply, the way his right eyebrow would rise slightly when he was amused. Nick wasn't aware he had been staring until David called out to him.

"Nick?" he asked, frowning. The waiter did the same, looking over of the rims of his glasses with an expression of both confusion and amusement.

"Yes, dar-...David?" Nick said, his head springing up suddenly. There was a small silence as the two opposite the Deputy simply stared.

"What would you like to eat?" David asked, as though repeating it for the hundredth time. Nick cleared his throat, heat rising to his cheeks, and tried to hide his face behind his menu. He bit his lip and desperately tried to find something that sounded nice. The prices displayed beside each dish were ridiculous, in his opinion. He could have paid for an entire family dinner for less. Still, David was waiting for him. And so Nick chose the one item on the menu that he was sure he had eaten before.

"I'll have the steak and ale pudding, thank you" he said, closing the menu to reveal his face once again. David smiled at him kindly, but the waiter lingered.

"Would that be with the shallot gravy, sir?" he asked. Nick looked from left to right.

"Err, no, thank you" he stuttered. The waiter nodded, before slithering away once again, swiping the two menus from the table as he did so. That then left David and Nick alone to talk. Nick himself didn't really have anything to talk about, but thankfully David never seemed to shut up. He never once asked about Miriam, or any of the Clegg's issues. He was tactful, avoiding anything that could perhaps refer to marriage or divorce. They didn't even discuss politics. It was their job, after all. For once it was just Nick and David, David and Nick. No interruptions, just jolly conversation in which the two men could simply be _friends_.

"So, what is it you're having?" Nick asked curiously. David reached over to the wine bottle and poured himself another glass.

"Sirloin steak" he answered, "300g. Herefordshire beef, you know". Nick nodded, presuming he was supposed to be impressed by that particular piece of information. He taped a finger on the table and looked around yet again. David seemed to be reading the wine label, and so Nick thought he would busy himself.

"I meant to ask" Nick said, a question suddenly popping into his mind, "How are Samantha, and the children? When will they be back?". David tore his eyes from the wine label for a split second. Nick saw him gulp, and all of a sudden his cheerful nature seemed to dim slightly.

"What? Oh, they're fine. Absolutely fine" David said quickly, clearly more interested in the strange French words he was reading. Nick frowned slightly and leant down, not caring about the many strange looks he received for putting his elbows on the table.

"Will they be back soon? I wouldn't want to intrude, you see" he went on. David looked back to him for a moment, his face paling. His eyes drifted over Nick's shoulder and he began to smile once again.

"The food" he cried, reaching over for his serviette and laying it down on his lap. He moved the wine bottle back to the middle of the table and watched as the waiter set two full plates of hot food down. David took the steak knife offered to him gratefully and began to cut away a piece. Nick looked down at his own plate hungrily. Portions here seemed to be small despite the price. His 'steak and ale pudding' did look rather nice though. Nick prodded at the case with his knife and licked his lips as several chunky pieces of steak oozed out coated in fresh gravy. He had been wrong. Coming here was an excellent idea. He had _definitely_ cheered up.

"To a lovely evening" David said, raising his wine glass. Nick took his own and listened as the two glasses clinked loudly.

"Indeed" Nick replied, sipping the wine and once again deciding to take another curious glance around. It was curiosity, of course. Or it could have been out of fear that a journalist was creeping near. Or, in fact, it could have been so that David would not have seen Nick blush when he aimed yet another quick wink in his direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think this is pretty accurate, seeing as I've actually been to the Savoy Grill twice (get me). The food is really nice but it costs WAY too much.  
> BTW Queen songs are perfect when reading this fic. They're great for writing Clameron stories as well. Sorry, but it's true.  
> This ship is just way too cute.


	9. Home Truths.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick pays Miriam and the children a visit.  
> There's some strong language in this one btw.

Nick Clegg made his steady way up the garden path of his London townhouse, his tired eyes noting the shade of every wilting flower and tricky weed. A few children's toys were scattered through the grass, and every curtain was drawn. Nick sighed and adjusted the collar of his shirt. David had leant him a clean one, seeing as his own clothes were all in the process of being washed. It had been days since he had been here, and already he felt like a stranger of sorts. The sound of his children's laughter from inside comforted him somewhat, but all the while he still had the all too cruel memory of Miriam's betrayal playing in his head. With a final glance back at the car, in which David sat waiting, Nick reached out and knocked on the door.

"Nick!" Miriam cried, her pretty face lighting up as she saw her husband standing on the doorstep.

"Miriam" Nick replied, looking straight past her to try and catch sight of his children. Miriam seemed slightly disheartened by this and stepped aside to let him through. Nick heard her shut the door behind him and walked into the living room. It was exactly as he had left it. Messy, but at the same time rather tidy. The shrill cries of young children caught his attention.

"Daddy!" Miguel yelled, running towards his father with arms spread wide. Nick knelt down and embraced the little boy tightly. His other children appeared soon after, and they too joined the hug. Nick held onto them all for dear life, a wide grin working its way to his lips. He had missed them beyond belief. It reminded him how much he needed to sort out his marriage. No matter how hard he tried, he could no longer see Miriam in the same light. There was no point staying in a loveless marriage, was there?

"Where have you been?" Miguel asked, his tiny arms wrapping around his dad's waist tightly. Nick stroked his hair and smiled happily.

"I've been busy" he said, knowing it was both a lie and the truth, "In Downing Street". Alberto moved back slightly so he could speak to his father face to face.

"Downing Street? That's where the Prime Minister lives" he stated, eyes wide. Nick chuckled slightly and sat down on the carpet. His children followed suit, surrounding him with eyes full of admiration and love. From the corner of his eye, the Deputy PM could see Miriam watching him.

"That's right" Nick said, "Good lad". Alberto grinned and hugged hid dad once again, even tighter than before. Nick was all for hugging him back, but all the while he could still feel his wife's eyes boring into him. With great reluctance, he pried his young son away and stood up.

"I'll be back in a moment" he told his children, "I just have to talk to mummy about something". Miriam nodded to him and retreated into the kitchen. Nick followed, his hand once again moving to the collar of shirt. It had looked so fitting and smart on David, who's shoulders were slightly wider than Nick's. The shirt itself was baggy on Nick, but the collar felt ever so slightly too tight. Then again, that could have been the nerves. He wanted to avoid an argument as much as possible, and get this entire business sorted. David was waiting outside, after all.

"That's a nice shirt" Miriam pointed out, flicking the switch on the kettle, "I'm sure I've seen it before, you know. Not on _you_ , though". Nick gulped and leant against the nearby area of the worktop. He wondered what to say. Miriam darted about the kitchen, still dressed in her dressing gown, hair sticking up in all directions. She reached over to the coffee jar and rummaged around in a draw for a teaspoon.

"Pass me a couple of mugs, please?" she asked. Nick hesitated, eyes darting about the kitchen. _Mugs_. _Where are the mugs_?. It was worrying to think that already he had forgotten the layout of his own kitchen. Downing Street was so different. The coffee and tea were kept next to the kettle at all times, along with the teacups and mugs. Unfortunately, Miriam picked up on his mistake.

"Christ, you've been away for less than a week and you've already forgotten where the bloody mugs are" she cried, hand glued to her forehead in dismay, "They're behind you!". Nick turned to be confronted by the mug rack sat on the worktop. He took two mugs from it and gingerly handed them to his wife. Miriam muttered under her breath and waited for the kettle to finish boiling. Nick quickly tried to think of something to say in defence. Live television debates were easier than this.

"The Downing Street kitchen is-" he began. Miriam turned on him instantly.

"Bigger than this one? Better?" she hissed, lifting the kettle and pouring scolding hot water into each mug. Nick gulped. If she got any angrier, that water would be all over his face. He felt like an elephant treading on thin ice. Any moment now he would say something stupid and put himself in it completely.

"There must be something amazing about it" Miriam continued, "Why else would you abandon your children for days on end?". Nick held out his hands in defence. He should have known this would happen. His only hope was that the children in the other room wouldn't hear them.

"I'm sorry, Miriam" Nick argued, tone calm, "I couldn't stay after what happened. Besides, Dave was very insistent-". Miriam slammed the kettle back into its place and threw the teaspoon down on the counter. She placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes to a dangerous level.

"So it's _Dave_ now, is it?" she snapped, " _Christ_! I've lost my husband to the fucking Prime Minister!". Nick gasped slightly, his eyes jumping to the kitchen the door. He worried that one of the children would walk in. Thankfully, they must have been playing in the front room.

"Miriam, please" Nick protested, "I don't want the children to hear-". Miriam's face turned a bright red, and furiously she pushed her hair from her eyes.

"To hear what? My bad language? Or the fact that their father has gone and fallen in love with David _fucking_ Cameron?" she hissed through gritted teeth. Nick furrowed his eyebrows and took a step forward. What _was_ she on about? Was this just a desperate argument? Her words had no truth to them, _did they_? Nick was determined to defend himself as quickly as possible.

"What _are_ you talking about?" he replied loudly, "David is my work partner. If you're trying to say that we're in anyway-". Miriam pointed at him accusingly.

"You're wearing his _shirt_!" she stated fiercely. Nick looked down at himself and straightened himself up suddenly, as though he was losing his credibility slightly.

"I am _not_ in love with PM" he told her curtly, "You're being ridiculous". Even as he said it, his cheeks grew warm. Why did his words sound so empty? So false? His tone was far from convincing, and he didn't at all know why. It was like stepping into a parallel universe. The entire meeting had been a complete shambles. Perhaps it would be better to just go and fetch his things and leave. _No_ , his mind instructed. He had to stay and at least _try_ to defend his case.

Suddenly, Miriam grabbed him and pulled him down to her height. She crashed her lips onto his own and wrapped her arms around his waist tightly. Nick's eyes opened wide with surprise. He could smell her perfume, and the faint hints of cigarette smoke on her breath. He knew he should have kissed her back, but something stopped him. He was forced to stand there like a fool, arms by his sides as his wife tried her absolute hardest to bring the old spark back. At one time, Nick would have put his hands on her waist and responded without question. Now it felt wrong. He couldn't take any more. And so, with mix emotions, he prised Miriam's fingers from his shirt and stepped backwards.

His wife stumbled forward slightly, eyes half closed, clearly shocked to see that her husband had ended the embrace so suddenly. She straightened herself up and laughed bitterly. She turned her teary eyes away and hid her face with her hair. Nick stood rigidly in the middle of the kitchen, words failing him.

"I knew it was true. I wanted to at least try and see if you still loved me. It was obvious, I suppose" Miriam said, sadness and disappointment seeping into her voice, "I never thought I'd be _jealous_ of David Cameron". Nick simply stared at her and gulped. He shifted about on the spot and looked to his feet. He opened his mouth to speak when she turned her head to look him right in the eye once more.

"You won't even admit it, will you?" she added, quieter this time, "Collect your things and go, Nick. I'll get in touch with the solicitors about the divorce soon". Nick gulped and took one final look at her, before opening the kitchen door and making his way down the hall. He hesistated as he passed the doorway of the living room. He stuck his head round and watched as his beautiful young children laughed and played together. They were so content, blissfully aware that their parents were in complete turmoil. How would they react? Would they even understand? Whatever the case, Nick knew it would be hard.

And so with a heavy heart, and teary eyes, Nick Clegg made his way up the stairs of the house for what he feared may be the final time. It was like taking a walk to gallows. The argument that had just taken place between his wife and himself had thrown him completely. He was unsure of what to make of it. It was all fabricated. Lie or jealousy, he did not know. _I never thought I'd be jealous of David Cameron_ , she had said. Nick frowned to himself and blankly walked across the landing and into the bedroom that he had and wife had happily shared for years on end.

_And I never thought I'd wonder if I was in love with David Cameron._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to share a thought of mine- "Save Me" by Queen is basically written for Clameron.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ysa2e_2Nlnc&list=PL2xwq6jogRe2IhSH0VoJNeCqVYhWrngpe&index=8  
> Even the lyrics are perfect for the coalition:  
> It started off so well  
> They said we made a perfect pair  
> I clothed myself in your glory and your love  
> How I loved you,  
> How I cried.....  
> The years of care and loyalty  
> Were nothing but a sham it seems  
> The years belie we lived a lie  
> "I'll love you 'til I die"


	10. They're In Dorset.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David has something he needs to confess.

Nick Clegg was once again feeling miserable. He had ended up crying into David's shoulder again during the car journey home. He repeated all that Miriam had said, pausing only to wipe away his tears or to clear his throat. He felt torn. Both Miriam and David tugged at him relentlessly. His suitcase weighed heavily on his lap, but it was nothing compared to the weight of his heart. It was a confusing place to be in. The children had been sad to see him go so soon, but Nick had promised to see them again soon. He couldn't bear to be parted from them for so long again. Miriam couldn't stop him, though Nick had a feeling she would try.

10 Downing Street was unusually quiet as David and Nick made their way through the front door and up those familiar stairs. They had made the journey many times, but it felt different some how. Each step seemed to be a mile away from the next, and with shaky legs Nick made his way up to the Prime Minister's apartment. David seemed as solemn as Nick, not even having the heart to smiled brightly or tell one of his particularly corny jokes. Nick sank down into the depths of the couch silently, his mind slowly slipping into a dark room of pure depression. Even the sun seemed to be darker now.

David took his usual place in his armchair and sat back quietly. He leant over to the coffee table and took up the remote control. He couldn't sit in such silence for long. Nick needed a distraction. He looked to the Deputy with worried eyes, before looking back at the television again. Light of different shades bounced across the patterned floor of the room and danced over the miserable faces of both me. David flicked through each channel quickly. There was nothing that caught his attention. Why did people insist on showing such rubbish on the weekend? Even ITV 1 was dead.

"Well, this is exciting" David sighed, settling on an episode of Miss Marple that he had seen a hundred times before. Nick's face was set like stone. He stared ahead blankly, body slumping further and further down with each passing moment. _Something was bothering him_. David almost slapped himself. _Of course something is bothering him_ , his mind stated fiercely, _his marriage is over._ David gulped. There was something bothering _him_ too. Nick had told him of all that had happened with Miriam. Every word had been relayed back to him. _Every_ word. Miriam thought Nick and David were an _item_. She was _jealous_. Jealous of _him_. David rubbed his temple and cleared his throat. It was time to give some explanations of his own. For too long he had been hiding in the shadows.

"Nick?" David asked quietly. Nick sat up slowly and moved his tired eyes to the Prime Minister's own.

"Yes, David?" he answered. David took another look at him before continuing.

"Well, the thing is" he said, "I haven't been entirely honest with you". Nick furrowed his eyebrows and straightened himself against the back of the couch.

"What do you mean?" he responded. David sighed and got to his feet. He seized the remote from the coffee table and turned the television off. Laying the remote down again, he began to pace. Like Nick had been when confronted by Miriam, David was lost. Give him a debate in front of hundreds, and he would be fine. But get him to admit the truth to a single person was almost impossible. He wanted to shout it out for the entire street to hear, but on the other hand he was frightened to say a single word.

"Well, you see" David said, holding his head up high, eyes fixed on the ceiling, "Samantha and the children aren't in Oxford". There was a slight pause.

"I see" Nick said simply, looking from left to right with confusion, "So where are they?". David looked into his eyes for second, before tearing his own away. This was much more difficult than he had anticipated.

"Dorset" David said finally, "They're in Dorset". Nick stared at him blankly. He knew there was more to it than a simple holiday, but still he went on.

"For a holiday?" he wondered, eyes narrowing slightly. David sighed and sat down beside Nick on the couch. The two men simply stared at the blank television screen for a moment before looking to one another with tired eyes.

"No, Nick, not for a holiday" the Prime Minister admitted with a sigh, "They're staying with Sam's parents for a while, just while Sam, err, finds a place of her own". Nick furrowed his eyebrows, before widening his eyes suddenly. He straightened himself up yet again and edged ever so slightly along in David's direction. He placed a hand on the PM's shoulder and tried to give him a small smile. It was perfectly obvious what was going on.

"I'm sorry, David" he said, "I had no idea". David sighed and smiled at him appreciatively.

"It's not your fault" he replied, "Sam moved out months ago. Things have been shaky since the election. It just wasn't working anymore". Nick nodded and listened faithfully.

"Blimey, I really am sorry, Dave" he told his friend sympathetically, his eyes moving back to the blank television screen. There was a moment of silence as the two simply sat and stared. It seemed they were both as fucked up as each other. They were both facing the prospect of being separated from their children and their wives. Never had they been so unified. A strange atmosphere seeped into the room. Both knew what they had to say, but did nothing.

"I suppose we're both in the same boat, then" Nick commented, wanting an end to the silence. David chuckled bitterly and nodded. With a deep breath, he looked to his Deputy and kept his vision still.

"There's something else" he said boldly, "The reason _why_ Sam left". Nick rested his head against the back of the chair and looked straight back at him.

"Go on" he insisted. David kept his eyes exactly where they were, and allowed himself to draw another deep breath. He was very much tempted to close his eyes, but decided against it. He would look Nick right in the eye as he said it. No more hiding. _No more_.

"Well, it was, err...it was because of you" the Prime Minister said. Nick looked at David with bewilderment, eyes widening with each second.

"What do you mean?" he asked quickly, sounding ever so slightly out of breath. David plucked up the courage to move closer, confidence growing as he noticed that Nick hadn't recoiled or sat away. He taped his fingers on the soft fabric of the couch in an attempt to keep them away from Nick. This was the truth of the matter. David Cameron was hopelessly in love with Nick Clegg, and now was the time to admit it. It was no longer a little school boy's crush. That's how it had started out. When David had first made eye contact with the Lib Dem leader across the House of Commons. And then there was the time shortly after when the two had shaken hands for the first time before the big live Leaders' Debate before the election. It was just after the coalition that David began to realise just how much he had grown to love Nick. And now with both their marriages breaking apart, it was time to bring that love out into the open.

"She left because of you, Nick" David added bravely, "She couldn't stay after I admitted the truth. I can't say as I blame her, to be perfectly honest". Nick turned on the couch so that he was facing David completely.

"What truth, David?" he asked, "I don't understand". David's gaze was unfaltering. _Say it, say it, SAY IT_. Why was it so hard? Would Nick laugh at him? Hate him? Fear him? Did he even feel the same way? David had assumed that he did. There was definitely a connection between them. Or was that just David's imagination? The only way he would find out was if he simply plucked up the courage and said those all too powerful words.

"I love you" the Prime Minister said quietly. David gulped, before smiling like a fool. An enormous weight had been lifted from his very being. He instantly felt happier. He felt _free_. Nick stared at him blankly for a moment, his eyes stuck open wide.

"What?" he spluttered, body rigid.

"I love you" David repeated happily, growing more and more pleased with each time he said it, " _I_ love _you_ ". Nick continued to stare at him. It was hard to understand what he was thinking. His expression was almost unreadable. His eyes didn't give anything away either. It had stunned him, that much was obvious. Unfortunately, it didn't tell David whether his feelings were reciprocated.

"Well?" David asked, needing an answer. Nick continued to stare.

"Well, what?" he replied with a slight stutter.

"Do _you_ love _me_?" David cried. Nick was unsure, as usual, of what to do or say. His mind was split in two.

"Err, well" Nick began, his eyes moving away from David's face for a moment. David stopped taping his fingers on the couch. He couldn't control them any longer. They moved up with a life of their own and gently brushed Nick's cheek. The Deputy tensed for a moment, but soon relaxed. David decided he liked the stubbly texture of his skin and continued to softly stroke his face. It was nice to see that Nick didn't resist his advances.

"I do" Nick said suddenly, "I do love you". He was telling the truth. David felt his smile grow even wider, and with a happy heart, he cupped Nick's face with his hands and pulled him in close. He had said it. After so long, he had said it. Both men smiled as their lips were brought together. And they were both determined to stay that way for as long as possible. They didn't care if anyone walked in. They loved each other, and that was all that mattered.

 

 

 


	11. God Bless Danny Alexander.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny Alexander decides to pay the new couple a quick visit.

Nick awoke in the arms of David. They were cuddled up together on the couch, a thin blanket draped over them. Nick stirred slightly and frowned. He couldn't remember putting it there. He and David had stayed up reasonably late the previous night going over their election pledges, and discussing what was going on between them. I love him, Nick thought to himself, smiling like a child. Miriam had been completely right. They were foolish to have denied it for so long.

David was still sleeping soundly. His arms were wrapped tightly around Nick's torso, as though he was scared of losing him. Nick chuckled to himself and rested his head down on the PM's chest. He listened as David breathed slowly and shut his eyes. It had all been rather terrifying at first. The words 'I love you too' had left Nick's lips quite suddenly. Then, when David had kissed him, all that fear had faded away. The taste of his lips as they moved against his own, the brush of his skin, the softness of his thin, brown hair. It was all so beautiful and perfect. He wanted this moment to never end. Had they had the chance, they would have lay there on that couch forever.

"Oh, about time" a familiar voice called out from behind, "You're awake". Nick yelped and tumbled from the couch, landing in a small heap on the floor. He straightened his clothes and peered up gingerly. Danny Alexander sat at the dining table, a mug in one hand, the early edition of The Daily Mail in the other. He took a quick sip of coffee before laying the mug down and staring right into Nick's very soul. 

"How the hell did you get in here?" Nick whispered, glancing first to Danny and then to the door of the PM's apartment. Danny shrugged and chuckled lightly under his breath. He must have seen them. He must have. There was no chance of him missing the little embrace David and Nick had been having. Yet still he was still smiling. Surely the average person would first be inclined to wake the two up and demand an explanation. So why was Danny so casual about it? What was he up to?

"I'm the Chief Secretary to the Treasury. They let me in" Danny replied, as Nick took a seat opposite him, "They told me to wait at the top of the stairs, but then I noticed that the door was open". Nick stared at him with furrowed eyebrows.

"So you just wandered in?" he pressed on, feeling both angry and worried at the same time. Danny looked from left to right before lifting his mug to his lips once more and nodding. 

"You would have frozen to death if I hadn't of put that blanket over you" he stated simply, his eyes drifting over to his copy of The Daily Mail. Nick sighed heavily and began to read it from the wrong way round. He instantly recognized David's face on the front cover, as well as his own. The headline read "PM AND DEPUTY PAY FOR COSY DATE AT THE SAVOY WITH TAXPAYERS MONEY". Once again the press had been sticking their noses in.

"Yes, well. I'd appreciate it if you knocked in future" Nick said, defeated, "I'll tell David that I let you in, shall I?". Danny smirked slightly and nodded over to the couch. The PM was clearly still sleeping peacefully. Nick didn't have the heart to wake him

"Shouldn't that be _Dave_?" Danny commented with a grin. Nick scowled at him and pulled the newspaper over to his side of the table.

"Don't push it, Danny" he warned, still very much frustrated that the Chief Secretary had just burst in, "What is it you want, anyway?". Danny tapped the front of the newspaper and folded his arms.

"That" he answered, "I thought you should see it". Nick quickly scanned the front page before looking up to Danny with an annoyed, and slightly disappointed, expression. 

"You barged in the most heavily guarded and private place in Britain to bring me a bloody newspaper?" Nick scoffed, his voice low so that he didn't wake David. Hopefully, Danny would be gone by the time he woke up, so there would be no awkwardness. Would David hide what was going on? Or would he be completely open about it? On the one hand, Nick preferred the idea of their relationship being out in the open. It was the 21st century, after all. Gay couples were perfectly acceptable, and it wasn't as though the Liberal Democrats or the Conservatives were homophobic. Yet at the same time he wanted their relationship to be private.

"I was only looking out for you" Danny protested, an amused look remaining on his face, "There's something else". He reached down into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a slightly thinner paper. Unlike most other publications, it had a single headline and picture on it's cover. Nick recognized it instantly.

"Private Eye?" he read, his eyes quickly skimming across the cover, "Is that supposed to shock me?". The front cover showed David and Nick sitting side by side, below the headline "COALITION IN CRISIS". From David's mouth came a little speech bubble with the words "I can't work with the Tories anymore". People, particularly the journalists working for Private Eye, had been saying for months that David had become more of a Lib Dem than a Tory. It was as though Nick's ideals were rubbing off, a thought that made the Lib Dem leader smile. 

"I've passed the stage of caring about what Ian Hislop writes, Danny" Nick stated simply, taking a quick flick through Private Eye regardless, "It's pointless trying to reason with the man". Danny nodded to that and finished his coffee. He chuckled slightly as Nick stopped on a cartoon of himself and David sitting upright in a bed. Nick had been drawn with a particularly large head, a book titled "Effective Lying For Dummies" laid out on his lap. "Not tonight, Dave. I've got a headache" were the words that had been drawn over Nick's head, and David's character wore a particularly sour expression. Insults, insults, insults. They never stopped in politics. The whole idea that Nick and David were in a marriage of sorts was continuing with a vengeance. At one time, it might have bothered Nick. 

"You've got a spot on Question Time this Friday, by the way" Danny told him, "And you're due back your constituency for a surgery on Saturday". Nick nodded. He was used to numerous appointments by now. Even so, it meant he would have to leave David for the entire weekend. He would be busy with his own constituency, wouldn't he? He was the Prime Minister. There was no one busier than the Prime Minister. 

"So, what's the deal with you and David?" Danny asked, as though he had been dying to say something, "Are you an item?". Nick glanced over to where David lay sleeping, before turning back to Danny an answering with a slight grin.

"Yes" he said proudly, "Yes, we are". Danny patted him on the shoulder and smiled brightly. As annoying as he could be, Danny had always been a good friend. It was nice to know that he could rely on at least one person to keep the secret, and to give their blessing. Nick could only pray that everyone else would be as understanding. 

"What about Miriam?" Danny asked curiously, standing up and plodding over to the kitchen. Nick heard him place his mug down at the bottom of the sink and watched as he entered the room again. He would have to tell Miriam at some point as well. She already knew, of course, but he still had to admit the truth to her. She deserved that much.

"We're getting a divorce" Nick told Danny, "She was cheating on me, you see. Besides, it's probably best considering-". He gestured to himself and then to David. Danny nodded.

"Aye, I see" he said, still grinning widely, "So, shall we get to work or-?". Nick stood up and looked back over to David. He smiled softly, watching each rise and fall of the PM's chest. He hoped he would always be there to watch over him as he did now. He never wanted to be parted from him again.

"You go on" Nick said, "I'll meet you at HQ later. I think I'll stay back here for a while".


	12. Two Eds.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David and Nick get back to work. But they soon discover that they aren't the only ones keeping secrets.

"ORDER! ORDER!". John Bercow's voice sounded out across the chamber. The Commons was alive with the shouts and calls of its members. Nick Clegg looked around in bemusement. Sometimes they were like a group of animals. Monkeys, perhaps. David sat before the dispatch box with his head held high, a small smile on his face as the Opposition continued to talk over George Osborne. The Chancellor was trying to make a point, and once again Ed Miliband's bunch were quick to intervene.

"ORDER!" Bercow went on, sitting up sharply in his green chair, pointing his papers in the direction of the Opposition benches. Nick chuckled lightly. For one so little, he certainly had a big voice. After several moments of frenzied jeering and waving, the House fell quiet, and George was allowed to continue. From the opposite side, both Eds whispered. Nick narrowed his eyes at them, wondering what it was they were talking about. He jumped slightly when David leaned in towards him. They had chosen to keep their relationship a secret for now, but hoped a time would come where they would be able to admit their feelings. As it stood, only Danny Alexander knew just how close the Prime Minister and his Deputy were.

"Who do they remind you of?" David whispered, nodding over to where Ed Miliband and the Shadow Chancellor sat conspiring. Nick looked to them again and thought hard.

"Wallace and Gromit" he answered, fighting the smile that threatened to work its way onto his lips. David chuckled, this time rather audibly, just as George was collecting his papers and sitting back down again. Nick sighed as he caught sight of Ed Balls rising to his feet once again. There were occasions where he thoroughly enjoyed being a Member of Parliament, but there were also times where he felt trapped. The chamber was like an animal house at times, an asylum for the mental. Shouting, jeering, waving papers. It all blurred his vision slightly. Having David sat beside him made him feel a lot better. Nick jumped slightly when he felt a hand close around his own.

"Sit tight" David said quietly, giving Nick's hand a quick squeeze, "It'll be over soon". Nick smiled at him, blushing slightly and glancing around to see if anyone had noticed. Thankfully, the other members of the Common were too busy debating to see what was going on. Danny, who was sat next to Nick, smirked to himself and shook his head slowly. Nick wasn't sure whether he was shaking his head at him or at Ed Balls, who continued to ramble on about the economy and austerity.

"I'd be careful, if I were you" Danny whispered suddenly, catching Nick by surprise. 

"What do you mean?" Nick asked, still feeling David's hand clasped firmly around his own.

"Holding hands in the middle of a debate?" Danny explained, his voice low so that no surrounding MP's could hear, "I'm all for the LGBT community, you know that. But there'll be all sorts of talk if someone notices". Nick nodded to that and looked down at where his hand lay on the front bench, fingers intertwined with David's. David himself was too busy watching the debate as it unfolded. It looked as though Ed Balls was about to finish. Miliband watched the Shadow Chancellor with glazed eyes. Nick had always thought that the Labour leader and Mr Balls didn't get on. They always seemed to avoid each other at important events. Perhaps he had been wrong.

"David?" Nick said quietly, leaning in the direction of the Prime Minister. David released the Deputy's hand almost instantly. 

"One moment, Nick" he said, shifting around on the bench so that he could face George. The two then proceeded to talk quickly and quietly. Nick watched them for a while, but turning back to Danny. At least their hands were now separated. He still felt an inkling of jealousy as David and George talked. George had known the PM much longer than Nick had. They had always been good friends, always sharing jokes in the lobby and discussing strategy on the front bench. Nick felt somewhat excluded. It was silly, petty jealousy, of course. It was only fair that he should be so protective of David, wasn't it?

"Good God" Danny moaned, glancing at his watch, "Lunch never comes early enough, does it?". Nick nodded to that and smiled. He looked at the face of his own watch and sighed deeply. Ten noisy minutes left, and then he would be free for an entire hour. Clearly it was just one of those days where he wanted the Commons to do be done as soon as possible.

"What's Portcullis House got on the menu today then?" Danny asked, staring up at the ceiling of the chamber almost dreamily. Nick smiled at his friend and chuckled lightly. He looked back down at his watch and followed the second hand as it ticked around in what looked like slow motion. 

"I've no idea" he said simply, just as George Osborne stepped up to make another point.

 

* * *

 

"Come and sit with us, David" George Osborne said, a packet of sandwiches in one hand, a mug of hot coffee in the other. William Hague and Theresa May stood behind him, waiting patiently for the Prime Minister to join them. Portcullis House was divided at lunchtimes. On one side of the hall sat the Opposition, whilst on the other the joint powers of the Conservatives and Liberal Democrats sat on the other. Saying that, many Lib Dems ate with Labour and Caroline Lucas, the sole Green MP of the Commons. Nick usually sat with Danny and Simon Hughes. Vince Cable joined them every now and then. Now, of course, things were much different. David and Nick were an item. Would they allow themselves to sit apart?

"Okay, okay" David said, clutching a freshly-bought bottle of water to his chest, "I just need to have a word with Mr Clegg". William and Theresa nodded slowly and walked away to take their seats. George hesitated, an incredibly grumpy expression growing on his face. He watched as the Prime Minister marched over to where the Deputy sat, before skulking away silently.

"Nick! Can I have a word, please?" David asked, tapping Nick on the shoulder. Danny fought back a smirk as Nick pushed back his chair and walked away by David's side. Simon laughed slightly and watched as the two made their way up the stairs to the higher floors of the building. 

"That sounds serious" he commented. Danny nodded and raised an eyebrow.

"Aye" he replied, "I'm sure it is".

 

* * *

 

 

"Where are we going, David?" Nick asked curiously as the two hurried along the many corridors and passageways of Portcullis House. David walked close to him, his hand occasionally brushing against Nick's accidentally on purpose. Many passed them and nodded. Some even smiled. Nick figured that they weren't leaving the others so that they could discuss important parliamentary business. The further they walked, the more Nick began to understand. It wasn't as though they could hold hands or kiss in front of all other 648 MP's, was it?

"We're finding a room where we can be ourselves" David informed him, "You don't seriously think I would ignore you for the entire day?". Nick smiled, heat rising to his cheeks. They continued to hurry on through the corridor, their pace quick, their eyes darting from the floor to the passing civil servants. Every room they passed seemed to either be occupied or locked. Many of the rooms in Portcullis House had glass walls. In several of these rooms, the blinds had been closed, meaning the only way to check whether there was anybody in them was opening the door and having a peek inside.

"Here, what about this one" David supposed, pointing to a nearby closed door, "I can't hear anything from inside. Can you?". Nick pressed his ear against the door and listened hard. There were faint sounds from the other side. Fumbling, perhaps, as well as quiet talking. He backed away from the door and was about to tell David about what he heard. However the moment the Deputy stepped back, David stepped forward. He slipped his hand around the door handle and pushed. Nick bit his lip. How awkward would it be if they walked in on an important parliamentary meeting? However, as the two men saw as the door swung open, the meeting that was taking place inside wasn't at all parliamentary.

Ed Miliband and Ed Balls were sat close to one another, hands intertwined tightly, leaning forward as they shared a long, deep kiss. Both David and Nick froze, their eyes wide. Neither of them uttered a word. Miliband and Balls were so focused on their embrace that they didn't notice who was now watching them. Nick heard a small gasp escape his lips, and quickly he seized the door handle and shut the door once again.

The Prime Minister and his Deputy stood still for a moment, silent, their eyes still wide. Then they began to laugh. Loudly, and hysterically. Ed Miliband and Ed Balls were together. It seemed they weren't the only major political figures conducting a secret affair. Nick wondered whether Yvette knew about her husbands new relationship. If she were to try and find Balls, she would get a surprise indeed. Nick and David, stomachs aching from laughter, hurried away from the door and set off in search of a spare room once again. 

"Bloody hell!" Nick cried, leaning on David's shoulder for support, "Miliband and Balls. Who would have thought it!". David wiped a tear from his eye and put an arm around his Deputy's shoulders. Nick tensed up slightly, but soon relaxed when he realized just how comforting the gesture felt. To anyone else, they would look like two close friends. 

  _Ed Miliband and Ed Balls_ , Nick thought with amusement, _and I thought David and I were a strange couple_. Despite the shock and hilarity of the situation, Nick was very happy for them. After all, it meant he and David were not the only two male MPs involved with one another. It lightened the load somewhat, and made the idea of coming out to the public a whole lot easier to handle.


	13. Surgery.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick pays his family a visit, and makes a few plans while he's there.

Nick's children were surprisingly cheerful when he came to visit them again. They had leapt on him without hesitation when he had first walked into the living room. Miriam had left to go to work the moment he had arrived, and so Nick had promised to stay until she returned. David had, as usual, dropped him off. One day, he would have to meet the children properly. As he had watched his children playing happily together, Nick had wondered whether they would understand. Miriam had realised his true feelings before he himself did. Had she tried to explain to the children already? Did they know it too? If they did have even the slightest inkling about what was going on, they certainly didn't make it obvious. Nick's heart had sunk when he first heard the all too familiar sound of Miriam's car pulling into the drive, and with great sadness, he prised Miguel's hands away from his leg and pulled out his phone.

 _'Hi, Dave. Miriam's back now. Do you think I should try talking to her? xx'_ were the words he typed. He waited anxiously, back pressed against the couch as the children continued to play around on the carpet around him. Outside, he heard the slamming of a car door, followed by several loud clicks as his wife made her steady way up the garden path. Nick felt a small rumbling in his pocket. He took his phone out quickly and read the message David had sent him. Miriam was unlocking the front door now. He suddenly wished that David was there with him.

 _'It's up to you, Nick. We could always tell her together if you'd like. Let me know when you want picking up xx'_. Nick smiled to himself and read the message again in his head. The children were busy jumping around and playing to notice. A small yelp brought him to his senses. Nick jumped. It was Miriam's voice. He set his phone down on the arm of the chair and opened the living room door. Miriam was leaning on the bottom stair, rubbing her foot with a wince.

"Oh, hello" she said stiffly, barely looking at him, "I was wondering whether you were still here". Nick furrowed his eyebrows.

"I wasn't exactly going to leave the kids alone by themselves, was I?" he told her, "What've you done to your foot?". Miriam sighed and hopped across the hall to the shoe rack leaning against a nearby radiator. She threw her heels down onto it and moved through into the kitchen. Nick was tempted for a moment to follow her, but then he heard his phone rumble once more.

"Bloody heels" Miriam told him eventually, pulling her favourite mug from a cupboard. Nick faked a small chuckle, before moving back into the living room. Miguel and the others grinned widely as he sat back down on the carpet. Nick was content just watching them. He was glad that they were so happy, despite all that was going on. With the kids busy once more, Nick reached over to his phone and unlocked it. Had David sent him another message? To his disappointment, it was Danny.

'You've got a constituency surgery on Wednesday. Nothing major's going on in the Commons, so you should be clear to go'. Nick nodded at the screen. It had been a long time since he had spent a proper day in Sheffield. All politicians held surgeries once a month, but Nick was Deputy Prime Minister now. He very rarely had the time nowadays. But, like Danny said, he wouldn't be missing anything huge in Parliament, and he was more or less up to date with his paperwork. It wouldn't hurt to have a full day or two up in Sheffield, would it? Who knows? It might do him good. He could even ask David to come along with him...With a small grin, Nick returned to his conversation with David.

_'Dave? xx'_

_'Yes, Nick? xx'_

_'I've got a surgery on Wednesday xx'._ David's reply was almost instant.

 _'Surgery?! For what?! Nick, what's going on?!' xx._ It took Nick a while to realise what was going on. He was about to point out the Prime Minister's mistake, when another message arrived.

 _'Hold on, I'll call you xx'._ Nick chuckled to himself and rolled his eyes. Again, he went to point out what he was really trying to say, but once again David interrupted. There was a loud shaking from the depths of his phone. David's name popped up bold and clear on the screen, along with the words 'Incoming Call'. He felt bad about rejecting the call, and so he answered it. Clearly David had misunderstood the message. He wasn't on about a hospital surgery, he was on about a _constituency_ surgery.

" _Hello_?" Nick said, bringing the phone to his ear. David's voice oozed concern.

"Nick? Where are you? Are you alright?" he cried. Nick chuckled slightly.

"David, I'm fine, calm down". From the corner of his eye he could see Miriam spying. He quickly explained the misunderstanding and felt himself blush as David chuckled loudly down the phone. The PM let out a long sigh of relief. 

"I'll come along, if you don't mind" David announced, "It'll be nice to see your constituency". Nick snorted.

"It's not as fancy as yours. Believe it or not, Sheffield and Witney are completely different places". David laughed at that, and from down the speaker Nick could hear him giving his thin hair a quick scratch. 

"Would you like me to arrange a car for Wednesday?" David asked. Nick thought for a moment, before shaking his head, despite the fact that David obviously couldn't see him.

"No, I'll drive down" he decided, hearing Miriam rooting around in her bag for something in the hall, "It might be quite pleasant". The smile in David's voice was apparent. 

"Right-ho" he said, "I look forward to it. Would you like me to come a fetch you now?". Nick checked his watch, looked to his children, and then nodded again. 

"Yes please" he replied, slipping back into his shoes, "I'll see you in a moment, then". David clapped his hands together from the other side, and it sounded as though he was already making his way down the creaky stairs of 10 Downing Street. It was almost as though he had been waiting. Bless him, Nick thought to himself with a soft smile.

"Be outside waiting" David instructed, as usual, "I'll be there in a minute. Bye for now, Nick". Nick fought back a particularly goofy grin.

"Bye" he said, fully aware that he would be seeing the Prime Minister again in a matter of minutes. He was about to end the call when David's voice sounded out once again from the speaker. Nick quickly put it back to his ear.

"Oh, and Nick?" David said, as Nick moved into the hall to collect his jacket. Miriam was leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, something shiny covered up in her fist. Her expression was one of frustration, but there was also envy in her eyes. She knew perfectly well who her husband was talking to. Nick avoided her gaze as much as possible. One of these days, he would have to come clean. There was no use in lying.

"I love you" David finished. Nick's heart began to thump a little faster at those three words, and with increasingly glowing cheeks, he replied.

"You too" he said, and then the line went dead. Nick Clegg slipped his phone into his pocket and peered once more around the door of the living room. His children appeared to have realised that their father was once again leaving. They hugged his waist in turn tightly, eyes full of sadness. Nick kissed each of their heads and knelt down so that he could speak to them face to face. 

"I'll be back soon" he told them, and it was a definite promise this time, set in stone (like Ed Miliband's election pledges would be five years later). The children then trudged back into the living room again and carried on their games, albeit a little less enthusiastically this time. Nick reached for the door handle, but then Miriam tapped him on the shoulder. Nick turned slightly, only to have a set of keys pressed into his palm. 

"The car keys" Miriam said, not a hint of emotion in her voice, "For your little trip with David". Nick looked at the keys for a second, before slipping them into the pocket of his jacket. He tapped the small bulge that they made just to hear the faint jangling. Miriam lingered for a moment, before turning back towards the kitchen. Nick watched her, guilt seeping into his conscience. How long was he going to keep lying to her? She knew the truth, in fact she'd known it before Nick himself had. She'd still want actual confirmation of it though, wouldn't she? Would it make her feel better to hear the words 'I love David Cameron', or would it only make her worse?

These issues would have to be resolved later, Nick decided, as from outside he heard a car horn. David was here, and so with a final goodbye to his children, Nick Clegg exited the house and skipped down the garden path towards his beloved. 


	14. Road Rage.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David and Nick have a pleasant drive up to Sheffield. The Prime Minister soon discovers that Nick's calm exterior is very easily broken by road rage.  
> Expect strong language.

The familiar tones of Pink Floyd filled the thin frame of the car. It was small, with silver paint that was ever so slightly chipped on the doors, and windows that needed a decent wash. David hadn't been in a normal family car for years. It felt strange to be sat next to the driver, and even stranger to see that the driver was in fact his colleague, Nick Clegg. The Lib Dem leader had pulled up at 10 Downing Street early that morning, having been back to Miriam's to pick up the car. It was weird, and ever so slightly exciting, to see Nick waiting for him at the curb, rather than the other way round. David felt like a schoolgirl being picked up for a date as he hurried through the door, coat draped over his arm. It was neither sunny nor rainy.

Nick was a smoker. David knew how stressed he had been lately, and so he made no protest at the small clouds of ash that floated around the confines of the car. With the windows rolled down, most of it was able to escape. The dull signs of the M1 kept on flying past, and all around were a variety of other cars, trucks and lorries, big and small, bleeping their horns at one another and fighting to get to their respective destinations as quickly as possible. David tapped his fingers on his knees, head ever so slightly bobbing as Dark Side Of The Moon, Nick's favourite Pink Floyd album, played gently in the background.

"So how far is it to Sheffield again?" he asked curiously, eyes scanning the car-packed horizon. Nick kept his eyes on the road. He took his cigarette from his lips and tapped it out of the open window.

"Hmm...should be another two hours or so" Nick answered, eyes narrowing suddenly, "Depends whether the dickhead in front of us decides to move any time soon". He pressed the horn of the car with a closed fist. David jumped slightly at the sound. In front of Nick's battered Toyota was a rusty white van. Traffic had been rolling along at snail's pace. It seemed that the white van was the cause of much of the congestion, crawling along the road as though it was the only vehicle on the bloody thing. Nick usually remained rather calm, preferring to either keep his anger contained or slowly let it out through tears. Today, it seemed to David, he was not even bothering to hide it. Nick suffered from _terrible_ road rage.

"Go on, you daft bastard! This isn't a fucking funeral procession!" Nick roared, sticking his head out of the window slightly. The driver of the white van stuck his middle finger out of the window. Nick honked his horn at him again, teeth gritted, one hand on the steering wheel, the other fumbling around the glove box in an attempt to find another cigarette. David moved his hand away gently and tried to look for one himself.

"You just concentrate on getting us there" he told his boyfriend, if was indeed now allowed to use that word. David pulled out a half-empty box of cigarettes and stuck one between Nick's lips for him. Nick smiled and darted his eyes briefly in David's direction.

"Cheers, Dave" he said, "You couldn't light it for us, could you? It looks like the shite-bus in front of us is moving". David chuckled lightly, and began searching the old mess that was Nick's car for a lighter. No wonder Nick used to get a cab to Parliament. The Tory backbenchers wouldn't half take the piss if they saw just how messy Nick's car was inside. David didn't mind, of course. He actually rather enjoyed the normality of it. He wasn't being escorted to some formal dinner in a long black car, police motorbikes rolling on either side, clad in the most expensive, most uncomfortable suit his aide could find. He was sitting casually in an old silver Toyota Yaris, wearing a pair of jeans and a polo shirt. He smiled to himself, before suddenly reminding himself of his mission.

"There you go" David said as he carefully lit the cigarette Nick held between his lips. Nick nodded to him appreciatively and inhaled. Nick nodded to the packet and then to David himself.

"Help yourself" he said. David furrowed his eyebrows, inspecting the cigarettes and then the lighter with a mix of wonder and apprehension. Nick laughed, so much so that he nearly dropped his own lit cigarette onto his lap.

"Have you ever smoked? Ever?" he asked, curious. David felt as though he was being picked on, and straightened himself up in his seat.

"Of course I have" he replied defensively. Nick raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. David knew he was lying. He'd never touched a cigarette in his life. His father had always warned him against it. Even in his days in the Bullingdon Club, he had never once smoked. Would Nick respect him more if he did? Christ, it was like being back at school again. Doing 'cool' things in an attempt to impress. He was the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, and here he was, having a private debate with himself about whether he should take the leap and have one quick puff. Nick darted his eyes from the road to David repeatedly. _He was waiting_.

"Alright then" David said, " _Fuck it_ ". The car curved off to the left slightly. Nick tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Clearly his bad language was catching. There was something undeniably attractive about David trying to be rebellious and bold. He couldn't help but watch as the PM placed the tip of the cigarette between his lips and flicked the lighter. He flinched slightly as he brought the flame closer and closer to his face. Then, with a shaky hand, he lit the cigarette. Nick waited patiently as David set the lighter down and inhaled.

The silence was broken by a loud, raspy cough. David leant forward, face tinted green, spluttering as a small cloud of smoke poured out of his mouth. After another few moments of hearty coughing, he sat back in his sit, repositioned his shirt and lifted the cigarette to his lips again. Nick laughed as David had yet another coughing fit.

"Jesus Christ" David said hoarsely, examining the cigarette as though it was some sort of deadly weapon. Nick tapped on the ashtray built into the car.

"It was funny to see you try" he told him, as David hastily stubbed the offending object and threw it down into the ashtray.

"Funny?" David asked, clearing his throat, shuddering at the horrible taste the cigarette had left in his mouth, "I was in the process of coughing up my entire respiratory system". Nick chuckled, smiling brightly at David in a way that made the PM's heart flutter. Then, all of a sudden, the road rage returned.

The white van in front stopped suddenly, break lights flashing red. Nick slammed his foot on the break. It was a good job both of them were wearing seatbelts. The van driver then decided he would try and slither his way into the next lane. Cars all around, Nick's included, began to honk their horns. Drivers leant out of their windows, swearing and gesturing as the van inelegantly crammed its way into the nearby lane.

"Oi! What the fuck are you doing?!" Nick cried, eyebrows furrowed to dangerous level, "You don't _own_ the fucking M1! Are you _so_ dense?! Wanker!". David looked at him, wide-eyed. It was funny, but it was also somewhat shocking as well. He wondered whether he'd ever get this angry in the Commons. Ed Miliband wouldn't stand a chance if Nick starting throwing expletives at him in every sentence. 

"What an absolute dickhead. Yeah, that's it!" Nick continued, speeding up once the white van had finally made its uneven way into its desired lane, "Hang your head in shame, go on. Jesus Christ, what a cunt". David bit back a gasp.

"Nick, calm down" he said soothingly. Nick gripped onto the steering wheel, knuckles whitening more and more by the second.

"Bastard" he growled through gritted teeth. He made sure he stuck his middle finger up at the van driver as his car went past. The speed of the car increased after that, and now that they were past the idiotic driver and his 'shitey-whitey van' as Nick kept calling it was out of the way, they would be soon in Sheffield.

"Bloody hell! Stupid wankers like that shouldn't be driving around on busy roads like this" Nick went on, shaking his head and exhaling heavily, "Well, you can't even call it driving. An absolute fucking omnishambles, that's what it is". David smiled to himself slightly. He'd just thought of the perfect one-liner. They didn't come very easily to David, and so he thought he'd share it before Nick carried on his ranting session.

"Alright, calm down, _Malcolm Tucker_ " he said. Nick chuckled lightly, eyes darting back in David's direction. A small smile crept onto his lips and all of sudden he seemed to relax.

"I didn't think posh boys like you were allowed to make pop culture references" Nick quipped, "Isn't it written in peasant's blood on the walls of King's College?". David rested his head back on his seat and laughed loudly. It was nice to be having a bit of, what did young lads call it?, _banter_. He wouldn't be able to have conversations like this with anybody else.

"Yes, well, I suppose you're right" David said, feign a heavy sigh, "I'd better have a little re-read of the _Tosser's Handbook_. This rust bucket you call a car is making my mind as dirty as your mother's-". Nick snorted.

"Don't you finish that sentence, David Cameron" he warned jokingly, "It's ironic that you call your imaginary rules 'the Tosser's Handbook'". David raised an eyebrow, puzzled.

"What do you mean?" he asked oblivious. Nick snorted again.

"Tosser. Handbook" he said slowly, pronouncing each word carefully and clearly, as though to a child. David let out a long _'oh!_ ', before bursting into laughter once again. David was so delightfully posh about everything. Even his laugh sounded as though it belonged to the body of a fifty year old aristocrat. There was a nice dynamic between he and Nick. They were similar, yet worlds apart at the same time. Suddenly, Nick realised that the Pink Floyd album had finished.

He reached over and removed the disc (A/N-Kindly remember that this fic is set in 2010). David took it from his hand. Nick felt his heartbeat increase by a few beats as their fingers brushed against one another. He bit his lip and focused his concentration back on the road, and more importantly, the journey. Signs for Sheffield were now starting to appear here and there.

"Any requests, Mr Cameron?" Nick asked, preferring to drive with music playing in the background. David scratched his chin and thought deeply for a moment.

"Vivaldi?" he suggested. Nick chuckled, and tore his eyes from the road so he could grin at his partner.

"Very funny" he said. David's smile dropped slightly. Nick raised an eyebrow and shook his head in disbelief.

"Oh" he said, amused, "You weren't joking".


	15. Hiding Behind Curtains.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David suddenly remembers that he is in fact the Prime Minister of Great Britain.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit". David ran from the toilets as quickly as he could. He kept his head down low, feet skimming the polished floor of the service station. Having just relieved himself, he had been casually washing his hands at the sink when all of a sudden, he noticed someone staring at him. When he turned around, he noticed that there were now several someones staring at him, all wide-eyed. David had looked from left to right, confused, before flashing the surrounding people a bright smile. "Good day" he had said, before making his way out of the toilets in a run. _How stupid_ , he thought to himself, _of course they were staring_. It wasn't every day you bump into the Prime Minister in the toilets. It was just Nick and himself. There were no bodyguards around this time to protect him. All of a sudden, David felt very exposed. He now stood hunched over in shadowy corner of the service station, not bearing to even look up and make eye contact with anyone.

Nick was getting something to eat from one of the many fast-food stalls lining the building. He had been planning on joining him in the queue once he had finished in the toilet, but that was before he had realised that he was in fact the Prime Minister of Great Britain. Everyone in the service-station was bound to recognise him. It wouldn't be an issue, except David was sure that there had to be at least one person present who didn't like him or his party, not to mention the fact that he had actually forgotten to tell his team where he was going. The staff at No. 10 knew he was spending the day with Nick in Sheffield, but George and the others were none the wiser. David glanced at his watch. He could imagine George and Theresa standing outside the House of Commons, feet tapping impatiently on the floor, papers stuffed under their arms as they waited for their leader to arrive. _Shit_. He'd be in the doghouse for this.

"David!" Nick called, two brown bags of fresh, hot food in his hand. He waved over to where David hid, eyebrows furrowed. When he realised that his colleague wasn't budging, he walked over. David moved to the wall of the service-station, reaching over and pulling the thick red curtain that had been pushed back from the window and covering himself with it. A family of four had decided to eat their meal on the table near to where he was standing. The wife had already made brief eye contact with him. Any moment now, she'd click, David was sure of it. For all he knew, she could be a journalist. He was so busy hiding that he didn't notice Nick wandering over to him.

"What _are_ you doing?" he cried. Suddenly, a hand reached out from behind the curtain and grabbed him by the collar. Nick whelped slightly, almost falling face first into the glass of the window. He tightened his grip on the bags of food and turned to David with narrowed eyes.

"Why are you hiding behind a curtain?" Nick asked, "You're drawing attention to yourself". David put a finger to his lips as though him to be quiet. He gingerly peered around the heavy curtain, before drawing back again swiftly. It looked most amusing from a spectators point of view. Nick, however, wasn't entirely impressed.

"If you act like a tit, David, you're bound to get noticed" he pointed out, "Come on. I've got the food. Now let's walk out of here like normal people and get driving again. We're less than an hour away from my constituency". David thought about moving for a moment, but when Nick went to stand out from behind the curtain, he grabbed onto his jumper and pulled him back.

"They don't know I'm here, Nick" David whispered. Nick frowned.

"Well evidently not" he replied, "You've been hiding behind a bloody curtain". David sighed and shook his head.

"No, I mean they don't know _why_ I'm here" he corrected. Nick frowned once more.

"Who don't?" he queried. David let out a small sigh and brushed a piece of errant hair from his face.

"My cabinet, the Commons, the press" he explained, fearing that Nick would give him a bit of a bollocking for being so irresponsible. Surprisingly, Nick wasn't at all that bothered. He simply shrugged and grabbed hold of David's hand.

"We'd better try and sneak our way out of this place, then" he said, a small smile gracing his lips. David returned it, heart fluttering in the way that it always did whenever Nick was close. They were about to hurry out from behind the curtain, when there was a sudden knock on the window. Hiding behind a curtain was a wise move if one wanted to hide from the people _inside_ the building, but if one wanted to hide from the people _outside_ the building? Well, the consequences were clear. Both Nick and David's hearts stopped at the same time.

Several cameramen were stood on the other side of the glass, clicking their cameras, desperate to get a good shot of the PM and his Deputy as they skulked around. Some of them were laughing, others staring at the two with looks of pure confusion. Yet another pile of wood was being loaded onto the bonfire. More material for the never-ending gag that was 'the marriage of inconvenience'. Mock The Week and Have I Got News For You would be having a field day.

"Oh bloody hell" Nick cried, tightening his grip on David's hand. He pulled the PM away from the window and led him through the service-station. The press began to run too, evidently racing to find the main entrance. There was no escape, was there? Nick looked around, hand in hair, eyes wide, his mind screaming profanities at the top of its lungs. Suddenly, it was David who was pulling him along.

"Follow me" he said, still holding on to Nick's hand. A quick glance over his shoulder told the Deputy Prime Minister that the press had now made their way inside. If they caught up to the two, they would be well and truly fucked. Nick found himself being pulled into the men's loos, and frowned deeply.

"I don't think coming in here will stop them, Dave" he reasoned. Thankfully, the toilets were empty. Nick could hear someone fumbling around in a nearby cubicle, but ignored it. He was too busy trying to figure out what exactly the PM was planning on doing. David towed Nick to the far wall of the toilets. Near the top was a small, thin window. He reached up and pushed it open, before looking to Nick expectantly. Nick looked from David, to the window, and then to David again.

"No way" he said, "I'm not climbing through a toilet window to try and escape". David stepped towards him, eyes darting towards the toilet door.

"You have to" he said, "How else are we going to get out?". Nick sighed and clenched his fists. He knew David was right, but he still didn't like the idea of squeezing his way through a small window, possibly injuring himself as he fell to the ground, and hurrying over to his car all whilst trying to protect their lunch. He had kept hold of the two Burger King bags for dear life. He was worried, but he was also hungry, don't forget.

"I won't be able to get through there" Nick argued, "I'll probably end up injuring myself as well". David sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"Fine. I'll go through first" he decided, "That way, I can catch you as you jump out". He clasped either side of Nick's face, planted a soft kiss on his lips, then, with the athleticism of a man half his age, pulled himself up onto the window ledge and slithered legs first through the gap. Nick rushed forward as David disappeared. He heard no cry of pain, nor a particularly loud thump of any sort. He held the two Burger King bags out the window and let go, hoping to God that David would catch them on the other side. And then, with one last streak of courage, Nick Clegg pulled himself up onto the window ledge as David had done. He was fairly lanky and weak, clearly not having David's strength. He wiped the thin layer of sweat from his brow and gulped.

Nick looked out of the window to see David standing waiting, arms stretched out ready. It wasn't very far to jump, but it was still somewhat daunting. It didn't help that Nick was scared of heights, either. He swung his legs through the open window and took a deep breath. He was about to slide out, when he suddenly heard a door open behind him. Instinctively, he whipped his head around. The door of the toilets remained closed. So which door _had_ opened? Gravity didn't want to wait around to find out, and with very little force, pushed Nick out of the window. The Lib Dem felt his bottom slide off the window ledge. Before he landed safely in David's arms, he caught sight of a fairly short man with dark, curly hair, brown eyes and a black suit. His tie was blue. In the split second that he saw him, Nick couldn't help but feel as though he recognised him.

"Come on" David said, carefully letting Nick down out of his arms. A small grin flashed across his face, and he grabbed Nick's hand without a another word. And so the two set off across the car park, determined to reach that old Toyota Yaris before the press did. And all the while, Nick's Burger King bag flapped loudly in the wind.


	16. The Mad.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick deals with a particularly mental constituent, whilst David does his best to blend in.

"Mr Robinson, _please_ ". Nick's voice was becoming hoarse. He ran a hand through his sandy brown hair and sighed deeply. He wished the chair he was sitting on would just eat him whole. For in front of the Deputy Prime Minister sat a particularly grubby man with wild grey hair and eyes that looked like they belonged to a five-day-old corpse. Nick had been trying to reason for the man for a good ten minutes or so, with no luck. His secretary still tried to calm him, but it was all in vein. Nick usually found that his constituents were a nice bunch. However, surgeries were also notorious magnets for the mentally challenged. 

"I'm telling you!" Mr Robinson cried, stabbing Nick's desk with a chubby finger, "They're plotting something". Nick sighed again, but feigned a smile. Politics was about handling things with tact, after all. He couldn't just leap up and slap the man, no matter how much he wanted to.

"Mr Robinson, I can assure you that Mr Singh and his family are not plotting to unleash a terrorist attack on Sheffield" Nick said, pronouncing each word slowly in the hope that they would be at least processed by the man's brain, "They are lovely, hard-working people". Mr Robinson scoffed and wiped the cluster of crumbs that had accumulated in his beard away. Nick gulped, trying his absolute hardest to not be physically repulsed. 

"They're up to something, Mr Clegg, I'm tellin' you" Mr Robinson insisted, face growing redder and redder, "Why won't you believe me?". Nick's secretary groaned under her breath and thumped her head down on the desk, defeated. The man raised an eyebrow at her, before looking to Nick again with those disturbingly glassy eyes of his. The Lib Dem leader noted how quiet David was being. Nick hadn't the heart to make him hide while the surgery went on. Instead, the PM now sat behind him, filing his way through old copies of the local paper and a variety of coffee-stained pamphlets. 

" _Please_ , Mr Robinson" Nick said, scared that what he was about to say wouldn't go down well, "I fully respect the fact that everyone has the right to an opinion. I wouldn't be a politician if I couldn't. But I must insist that you stop accusing Mr Singh and his family of terrorism. It's unfair and, quite frankly, offensive". Mr Robinson's unruly brow furrowed. 

"Are you calling me racist?" he spat. Nick's secretary thumped her head to the desk mid-rise and let out a long, heavy sigh. Nick was tempted to do the same.

"No, Mr Robinson" Nick reasoned, "I'm merely suggesting that you may want to update your opinions a little. It is the 21st century, after all". He added a small, fake chuckle to the end of his sentence to try and lighten the mood. Mr Robinson scowled.

"I know what the fucking century is" he remarked, and Nick was sure that he felt at least three tiny goblets of spit land on his face. He shuddered in his seat and opened his mouth to answer when he heard David's voice sounding out from behind him.

"Come now" he said, his voice both soft and stern at the same time, "There's no need for that, thank you". Mr Robinson was almost intimidated. The look on his face told Nick that he hadn't realised the Prime Minister of Great Britain was sitting in the shadows, minding his own business.

"You have come here to ask a question, and you have now got your answer" David continued, standing up and placing a steady hand on Nick's shoulder, "I suggest you take your xenophobic opinions elsewhere. And furthermore, if you speak to my colleague in such tones again I'll make sure you never set foot in this hall again". Nick's cheeks flushed a bright red, and all of a sudden he had the urge to kiss David silly. He had wanted to fight his own battles, but seeing David stick up for him so strongly was overwhelming. Mr Robinson, not impressed in the slightest, got to his feet and lent over the desk. Nick screwed his face up in disgust and tried to sink further down into his chair. The stench of alcohol radiating from the man was unbelievable. 

"Who do you think you are, _mate_ " Mr Robinson snarled, pressing his hairy face into the Prime Minister's. David didn't even flinch.

"I'm the bloody Prime Minister, _mate_ " he replied quietly. Mr Robinson opened his mouth to say something, but quickly shut it. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his moth-bitten tracksuit bottoms and walked away with all the elegance of a pregnant swan. Just as he reached the door, he turned and laughed manically. 

"We'll see who's the snooty one come May 2015, shall we?" he stated, pointing a finger at David, "When you're thrown out into the street by Farage and left to die with those Liberals you love so much. And as for you, Mr Clegg, good luck getting anywhere near the Government benches again". And with that, he was gone. David laughed, but Nick and his secretary were too dumbfounded to even speak.

"Mary?" Nick asked, poking the poor lady's hand gently. Mary sat up sharply and pushed a strand of yellow hair from her eyes. The surgery, including Mr Robinson's racist rantings, had worn her out. The Lib Dem, feeling thoroughly sorry for her, stood up and helped her out of her chair. 

"Thank you, Mr Clegg" she said, collecting her papers together and scooping her bag from the floor. 

"Make sure you never allow that man to attend surgeries ever again" Nick said, rubbing his aching forehead in dismay, "We don't need his sort hanging around here fouling the place. Now why don't you go home and put your feet up". Mary smiled and looked from Nick to David with tired eyes.

"Thank you, Mr Clegg, but surely you need me to sort out-" she began, but Nick held up a hand to stop her.

"You've done far too much for me as it is. You deserve a break" he told her earnestly, "I'll be fine. You go on home now". Mary grinned and began to make her way out of the hall.

"Thank you, Mr Clegg!" she called, waving to the two men as she reached the door, "I'll see you soon. Have a nice evening, and you, Mr Cameron". David waved to her and turned to Nick once the door had shut. There was a moment of silence as the two simply looked around the empty hall. 

"Well" Nick sighed, "Thank goodness she's gone". David raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you liked Mary" he replied, "She seems like a very nice lady". Nick nodded at that.

"She is" he said simply. David simply looked confused. He stepped closer to Nick as though struggling to hear his voice.

"Then why are you pleased that she's gone?" the Prime Minister wondered. Nick chuckled to himself and took one last look around the hall. He wanted to make sure that there were no more constituents or Mr Robinson-type folk hanging about. 

"Because it means I can do this" Nick said. And with that he lent up on his tiptoes, clasped either side of David's face and kissed him hard. And as he stood there, warm in Nick's embrace, David mused to himself. _It certainly was a good idea to come here_.


	17. Room For Two, Please.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's far too late to be heading back to London, isn't it?

Despite having been away from Sheffield for so long, Nick Clegg could still remember several decent hotels in the area. Hotel Novotel was his chosen favourite, lying only a few minutes away from the town hall. Nick had often stayed in this particular hotel many times when attending constituency surgeries. He wasn't an MP who lived in their constituency, alas, as he was usually far too busy with his work as Deputy Prime Minister. He knew there would be an ever-growing pile of paperwork waiting for hi back in London, but for now at least he and David could kick back and relax.

Discreetly, they booked a room, dumped their coats and whatnot, and then went down to the restaurant for a bit of supper. It wasn't quite as grand as their Savoy Grill meal had been, but it was certainly very nice. The staff were pleasant, and Nick was pleased that he could pronounce everything on the menu. It was David who looked slightly lost this time. He couldn't discuss French wines with the waiters. Two steak-and-kidney pies and a bottle of white wine were sufficient enough for the couple, though. They chatted lightly as they ate, sharing a joke here and there, avoiding the subject of work as much as possible.

"It's quite remarkable" David commented, dabbing at the corners of his mouth with a serviette, "We haven't been ambushed by the press for several hours". Nick nodded to that.

"I'm surprised your office haven't been on the phone demanding that you return to London immediately" he said. David grinned and reached down into his trouser pocket. He brought out his phone and set it down on the table.

"Turned off" he said, almost proudly. Nick wanted to frown and scold him for it, but instead he found himself smiling. They really were making an effort to be ignored. Clearly, they hadn't realised just how much they wanted to be normal. If they weren't Prime Minister and Deputy, they could travel around the country as much as they wanted. They could stop at service-stations without being mauled by hungry journalists. They could walk hand in hand down the street without fear of persecution. Nick was almost lost in his daydream of such a perfect life, when David's voice called out again.

"World War Three could break out, and I will never know" David said, an amused smile on his face. He picked up his wineglass and took another light sip of chardonnay. Nick furrowed his eyebrows this time.

"Somewhat careless, Dave" he remarked, bringing his own wineglass to his lips. David's smile brightened at the name. _Dave_.

"I don't care" he said, "Tomorrow we'll be back in our usual routine. I'd like this one evening to just be...just be". He scratched his scalp searching for the words.

"Normal" Nick finished for him, a bright smile forming on his own face. It was good to see that he wasn't the only one in this relationship thinking about an escape. Would it be completely insane if they were both to just jack their jobs in completely? They could retire. It wasn't as though they needed to worry about the money. Nick imagined them having a nice little cottage in the country somewhere, secluded with a nice garden for both his and David's children. He almost slapped himself. Of course it was completely insane. _You are a Member of Parliament_ , he reminded himself sharply, _the leader of a major party. It's your duty to carry on_.

"Do you ever think about quitting?" Nick asked, curious to know what David's response would be. The PM thought about it long and hard, before nodding.

"Yes" he said, "It's much harder than I thought it would be, for certain. There are days when I'll just sit in my office and think about handing my notice in. But then I remind myself why I wanted to be Prime Minister in the first place. Why I went up for the leadership all those years ago". Nick leant on the table and narrowed his eyes. It was strange, but very nice, to see David speaking from the heart like this. There was only so much joking and joshing they could keep on with.

"And what's that?" Nick asked. David looked directly into Nick's eyes, two shades of blue meeting in unison, and smiled.

"Because I want to help" he said, "I know that might seem strange coming from a Tory, but really, I _do_ want to help the people of this country. And that is what drives me. That is what makes me wake every morning. Well, that and you". He took another sip of his wine. Nick blushed and smiled down at his now empty plate. Just then, a two hands grabbed his own. David held his Deputy's hands close. Nick's eyes instantly began to dart around the room.

"Relax" David insisted, "This place is hardly teeming with guests, is it?". On his second inspection of the surrounding area, Nick saw that David was right. They appeared to be the only people in the restaurant. There didn't even seem to be many staff about, and those who were around were far too busy cleaning tables and straightening chairs. Nick gulped and did his best to relax. He was always paranoid that someone would spot them. He doubted holding hands over a cosy dinner could pass off as friendship.

"This place is deserted" Nick commented. David rolled up his sleeve and glanced at his watch. His eyes widened almost immediately.

"And no wonder!" he cried, "It's 11:30pm!". Nick snorted. Had they really been sat there talking for _that_ long? It was a wonder the staff hadn't asked them to leave. Their meals were finished, and there was only a few drops of white wine left in the bottle. Still holding his Deputy's hand, David stood up and stretched.

"It's been a long day" he yawned, "Let's head to bed". Nick nodded to that, though in truth he didn't feel at all tired. Just standing there with David's hand in his own made him feel, what was the word?, _alive_. He was actually feeling rather sad too. Sad because tomorrow they would have to go back to formality and paperwork and _friendship_. Nick didn't just want to be David's _friend_ , nor did he just want to be David's coalition partner for that matter. Sometimes fate really was an arse.

Nick's brooding thoughts were cut off suddenly by soft lips gracing his own. He tensed up for a moment, before relaxing into what was a tender and gentle embrace. It was all a bit sudden and spontaneous, but soon Nick's fingers were twining through the soft brown mane that was David's hair. David place one hand on his Deputy's neck, whilst the other moved to his back, pulling him closer. Nick pulled back ever so slightly out of breath. He needed air, and he was worried that things may get more heated and an oblivious guest would walk in at the wrong moment.

"This is a public place, David" Nick pointed out, hands refusing to move from where they were rooted to the other man's scalp. David chuckled and gently brushed Nick's cheek with his finger. Unless Nick was mistaken, there was a hint of mischief glinting in his eye. David's hands dropped from Nick's body to his hands. He held them tightly and smiled.

"Then by all means" he said, "Let's go somewhere not so public". He gave Nick a quick peck on the lips before leading him from the restaurant and up the spiralling stairs of the hotel. Thank God there was no one around. It could have been very awkward indeed, you know.

"I thought you were tired" Nick remarked. David shook his head and laughed. They practically ran along the corridors, hurrying but trying to be quiet at the same time, so that they didn't disturb any fellow guests or bring attention to themselves. They were just about to the reach the door of their room when David finally responded.

"I was tired" he said, "But I'm not anymore. Besides, you know me. I can't sleep while there's still work to be done".

Their door was kept firmly shut for the entire night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm more of a fluff person, don't forget. I am absolutely rubbish at the more, err, risqué stuff. Yes, I'm that British, alright? Don' be hatin'.


	18. The Figure In The Corner.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David and Nick have a quiet moment to themselves, before realising that they aren't alone...

Nick woke up with his face buried in David's chest. A few short hairs tickled his cheek, and he smiled to himself softly. David's skin was soft and warm, resting gently against Nick's own as they lay there together, arms wrapped around one another as though some sort of invisible force was trying to prise them apart. Nick yawned silently and nestled his head back down on his colleague's gently heaving chest. He listened to David's quiet breaths. He was still fast asleep. Their bed was ridiculously comfortable. Nick felt as though he had been sleeping on a marshmallow. He wanted to never move from this spot, from this time, from this space. He wanted to stay where he lay forever.

David stirred beneath his fingers, slowly with half-closed eyelids. He shifted and flicked a piece of errant hair from his eyes. He flexed his arms, before looking down at Nick's face. The sheer softness of his eyes made Nick's heart melt. There was a moment of silence, before David reached out and brushed his cheek gently.

"Good morning, Nick" he said, his voice croaky, as it usually was in the morning. Nick beamed up at him, heat rising to his cheeks.

"Good morning, David" he replied. His heart went into overdrive. A month ago, he would have been waking up beside Miriam. He would have turned to her and smiled, tightened his grip around her and maybe kissed her forehead. Now, it was David Cameron who he woke up beside, and he couldn't be happier about it.

"We need to start heading back to London today" Nick said quietly, voice close to a whisper. David nodded and continued to brush Nick's cheek with a gentle hand. He leant down and kissed his head, before relaxing back on the bed and sighing.

"Yes" David said, "But not yet. Not now". Nick smiled at that and closed his eyes. He could feel the sunlight of the morning beginning to break through the curtains. The time had come for them to start heading back to their normal lives. Visiting Sheffield had been like going on holiday. Remarkably, the press had managed to bother them only once.

"Sometimes I wonder whether you know you're Prime Minister, David" a voice said suddenly. Both men froze, their eyes wide. Nick hid his head under the covers instinctively. Was he dreaming? Was he imagining it? He kept still beneath the sheets just in case. David slowly sat up, pulling his own area of the duvet up to his chest. He nearly fainted once he saw who the voice had belonged to.

"George? What the hell are you doing here?" he cried, too shocked to even keep his voice down, "Please say this is a dream". George Osborne sat in one of the tiny box seats in the corner of the bedroom, legs crossed, fingers gently drumming. Beside him, on a small table, was a fresh cup of tea and a pile of papers. One of George's red boxes sat there too. It was almost as though he was back in his office at the Treasury. _How long had he been there?_

"It would be a rather compromising dream, wouldn't it?" George answered in his usual cool tone, "But not as compromising as reality, of course". He lifted his saucer and took a long sip of tea. He was oddly calm. David narrowed his eyes, fists clenched in shock that had now turned to anger.

"I'd imagine you have many questions, Prime Minister" George said, before David could speak, "But first I think it's best if you answer some of mine".

"I'm surprised at you, David" George said, setting his cup and saucer down on his papers. He crossed his legs and straightened his tie. David's eyes darted from George's brown ones to the large lump under the covers that was Nick. The Deputy PM kept deadly still. David wondered whether the shock of seeing the Chancellor sitting so sedately in _their_ room had knocked him out.

"Usually you're rather careful" George went on, inspecting his nails in an almost bored fashion, "Then again, what's more surprising is the fact that the press haven't picked up on this little _liaison_ of yours. _Someone_ must have spotted the two of you entering this hotel, surely". David stared at his friend for a moment, before narrowing his eyes.

"We were ambushed at a service station earlier, but we managed to escape before they could confront us" he said, wanting to clear up a few of George's questions first. The Chancellor jerked his head.

"So I saw in The Daily Mail. And in The Mirror, for that matter" he said, a hint of slyness in his tone, "The two of you didn't quite make the front pages, but your little curtain-hiding debacle got a fair bit of coverage. It looked rather odd, even from _my_ perspective". David raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean from _your_ perspective?" he asked. George chuckled lightly. The Prime Minister thought he resembled some sort of old Bond villain. All the Chancellor needed now was a large white cat to stroke and the image would be complete.

"Well, I always knew about the two of you. Honestly, David, I'm much more intelligent than you give me credit for" George spoke, lifting the saucer once again, "Holding hands in the Commons? If Danny Alexander can notice such things, it's as clear as day for me". David wasn't sure how he felt, or how he should react. Part of him wanted to throw George out of the room and threaten to sack him if he didn't keep quiet. However, another part of him wanted George to stay. David was intrigued, to say the least. Nick wasn't having any of it.

"You were at the service station!" he cried, sticking his head out from beneath the sheets, "Just as I slipped through the window, I saw someone walk out to the middle of the toilet. I knew it was someone familiar". David looked to Nick, and then to George, wide-eyed.

"You followed us!" he accused. George shrugged from his chair.

"I was curious. You forget that I do in fact live in the house next to yours, David. I saw you and Clegg drive away in your more _casual_ attire and wondered where it was you were off to. I didn't remember being briefed on any publicity stunt or visit, and so I called my driver and followed you". Nick blinked hard.

"I am the Chancellor of the Exchequer" George defended, "I am also David's closet ally. It is my duty to make sure that all he does is right and fair. You should be thanking me". Nick scoffed, blowing a stray piece of sandy brown hair from his eyes.

"Why?" he asked.

"The only reason the press haven't followed you this far is because of me" George explained, flexing his fingers with pride, "When I saw you run away from that service-station so hastily, I realised it was of paramount importance that you were not followed. And so I left the toilet and met them head on. I managed to turn their attention to me, instead". He reached down and flicked one of his red boxes open. He pulled out a newspaper and showed the front to David and Nick.

"You see?" George went on, presenting it almost proudly, "You two didn't make the front page; _I_ did". David sighed and nodded slowly. The front page of The Daily Mail showed a picture of George holding his hand up in an attempt to block the camera. The headline read 'CHANCELLOR TO MAKE BIG SPEECH ON ECONOMY'. The Prime Minister almost smiled. The whole curtain-hiding incident back at the service station had niggled at him since he arrived in Sheffield. He had worried that the press would be all over it.

"So, to cut a long story short, I followed you here, saved your careers from a rather embarrassing turn of events, drew the attention of the press away for a fair few hours, and then came here" the Chancellor finished, quietly happy with the fact that his long and ever-so-slightly complicated story was over, "I would have waited outside, but the door wasn't closed properly and my legs were in need of a rest". He finished his tea and carefully set his cup and saucer back down once more. He cleared his throat and looked between Nick and David with a casual expression.

"Questions?" he asked. There was a moment of silence. Nick thought long and hard. He had never really been a huge fan of George Osborne. As Deputy and Chancellor, they were almost rivals, both fighting to be heard by the Prime Minister. There was always something shifty about the way Osborne moved, as though he was hiding something. Could he be trusted? Nick didn't have a clue.

"You won't say anything, will you?" Nick managed finally, voice quieter than normal, "There would be nothing to gain on your behalf if you were to break it to the public". George looked at him disapprovingly.

"What sort of _beast_ do you take me for, Clegg?" he replied, a feigned hint of shock seeping into his tone. Nick frowned at him.

"A clever one" he quipped. George nodded to that, and smiled. There was a very thin line between smiling and smirking, where George Osborne was concerned. He was a smarmy bastard at the best of times.

"I shan't say a word" the Chancellor announced, nose pointed up to the ceiling. David let out a sigh of relief and relaxed much more on the bed. Nick still wasn't convinced, and biting his lip he braced himself for the word that was sure to come.

"If..." George said finally, cold brown eyes boring into Nick's once more. The Deputy PM groaned and thought about hiding his head under the covers again.

"Go on" David insisted, albeit through gritted teeth. He had known George longer than he had known Nick, and had always considered him to be his greatest friend. However that did nothing to change the fact that, deep down, George could be a right _arsehole_. Studying the economies and banks of the world had taught him how to _negotiate_. He had also learnt how _blackmail_ worked...

"How about this. I shan't say a word to anyone about your little relationship" George spoke slowly, "But only if you meet a few requirements of mine". Nick was hating this. What would Osborne want? He didn't need money. Nor did he need power. He was about to protest to David, but David held a hand up to silence him.

"Name them" the Prime Minister said, curious to know what exactly his Chancellor was after.

"First, you need to drop the AV referendum" George stated. David wasn't overly bothered, as he didn't want the voting system changed either. Nick on the other hand, whose party made voting reform a key election pledge, sat up in protest.

"But we campaigned for the AV referendum!" he cried, "One of the key reasons we went into this coalition with you was because you _offered_ to give us the referendum. You can't just take it away now". George raised an eyebrow and scoffed.

"Clegg, the only reason you agreed to the coalition was because it was the only way your party would get power" he snapped, "I have a feeling you won't like my second condition either". Nick sighed and rubbed his eyes. David would give him whatever he wanted if it meant the press didn't find out about their affair. Trying to argue was pointless.

"Go on" he said, reluctant. George smirked, and this time it was a clear smirk.

"It's simple. You know what you said about scrapping tuition fees before the election?" he said, "Forget it". Nick let out another groan.

"Why?" he fired, anger seeping into his voice. Voters would never forgive him if he suddenly changed his mind on tuition fees. George wanted to forget about the conditions of the coalition all together. He wanted Nick and his party to look the fool. Clearly George was thinking exactly the same thing, as he smirked again, deeper this time.

"Well" he replied, calm as could be, "Because I want you to help me increase them".

 


End file.
